Respect My Authority
by Soul Flash
Summary: There's only one thing you can do when a Jew tries to mess with your mind: play some mind games yourself. After all, all's fair in love and war. Kyman, slash. Cartman's POV. Companion fic to Don't Touch Me.
1. Chapter 1

Hey there, guys. I'm back again, this time with Cartman's version of my first story, "Don't Touch Me." For those of you returning, you can treat this as a sequel, or just a new story completely. And for those who are new to my little series here, it doesn't really matter which one you read first. Both stories do and will have their own loose ends as the story progresses, and those loose ends are mended through the other story. Also, the loose ends that aren't tied up by either story will be included in a separate collection of stories that I'll be posting sometime in the future.

So, with that said, let's go ahead and jump right into this! Without further delay, I present you "Respect My Authority." Enjoy!

* * *

My life sucks balls. Major balls. Balls so big that you would need, like, elastic for skin just to fit them in your mouth. I'm seriously. I know that living in a small mountain town of only a few hundred people is totally lame, but it's so much worse than that. So much fucking worse. There's nothing but idiots here, and just when I think I've earned a moment's peace away from them, another walks up and starts spewing shit at me. And when they walk away, either satisfied with their meeting with me or because I managed to piss them off somehow, I can't help but ask myself why in the hell I'm still here.

I should have left this goddamned place when I had the chance. I've had plenty of chances, too. Plenty.

What's even worse is that I have my own problems to deal with, on top of dealing with idiots every five seconds of my fucking life. It's the same fucking thing every night. Things that have sat in the back of my mind throughout the day surface as soon as I settle down for bed after I've barked orders at my mom, demanding her to get me a glass of milk and some cookies before I go to sleep.

Though, I suppose I shouldn't be so hard on her. Instead, I should be glad on those few nights that she's actually home, and showing me that she does still care. Because most nights, she's out on the streets, either smoking crack or banging some guy she doesn't even know. I hate to admit it because this isn't exactly my style, but she is my mom, and that means I do worry for her safety even though I don't show it. Her being out on the streets late at night while everyone else's mother is in their own stable home... God, it pisses me off so fucking much.

Stupid crack whore bitch... does she not understand that she's still legally responsible for me? Even when I do turn eighteen, she'll still have to be there to give me stuff. It's not like I have any money of my own to live on. I could get a job... or better yet, take some from someone who has too much, and could bother giving some to someone in need. Like Token... That's not a bad idea, actually.

Anyway, things aren't all that bad, I guess. Like I said, I'll be eighteen in a few months. Moving back more towards what I really feel, I have to say that I can't fucking wait for that to happen. Seriously. When February rolls around, I'll be an adult, and a few months after that... God... a few months after that is the gold. The treasure. My one way ticket out of the crap-filled town and on to a bigger, better, and fresh, new life.

Graduation.

Yes. It's all finally coming to an end. As soon as I walk that stage and get my diploma, I swear, I fucking swear that I'm out of here. That same day, that same hour even. Nothing or no one is going to hold me back; not my own mother, not my friends (if that's what you want to call them); no one. Saying 'bye' to everyone is just so fucking... gay. There's another problem that I don't want to get into. Anyway, the after party could be interesting, depending on who's throwing it. If there's booze there, I'm totally in. Chances are, though, it'll be thrown by that pussy Stan. Star quarterback or not, that hippie is too fucking chicken to have anything besides Kool-Aid at his parties. God, I swear, everyone in this town is so fucking retarded. Especially one person in particular. He and everyone else may think he's a fucking genius, but he's really not. At all.

Kyle Broflovski.

The fact that he's a Jew makes it even worse, considering what all Jews really are. Lying, greedy, sneaky people. Nothing good about them at all. Kyle sure proves it, too. For no reason at all, he has something against me. It may have helped that I've done some things to him in the past, but that was only in my defense.

Seriously, everyday is a new trick for him to try out on me. That means I always have to stay on my toes to catch what he throws out at me next, and shoot it straight back at him. He claims that it's the other way around, but it's totally not. This douchebag is always out to get me, and he knows it. He knows it well. We both do.

His latest trick is just another one of the problems that I have to deal with, both day and night, and is probably the biggest of them all. It's his last resort to push me over the edge towards insanity, and as much as I hate to admit it, it's working pretty damned well. I'll actually have to give him a little credit on creativity. And skill. And... the fact that he's Jewish because really, that's the only way he's able to do this to me.

Jew magic is one of the last things that I wanted to deal with in my life. It's way worse than dealing with, say, a drum circle of dirty, stinking hippies, or standing in line at an airport for seven hours. Way worse than that. That's why I have to stop it before it gets worse than it already is. He's already got me thinking that I'm possibly gay, which I'm totally not; I have to stop him before he makes it any worse. That's why I have to figure him out now. Why I have to expose his secret, figure out how he does it. He thinks his little hexes and spells are still in the dark, but I know. I'm smarter than that, and I know he has to have some secret notebook or something that he keeps his little formulas in, and when I get that, I can put an end to his little shenanigans and get on with my life. Maybe I'll even cast a few of those spells on him, just for payback.

So, that's why, with this plan in mind, I'm going out tonight on my own little adventure. I've done a lot of planning and thinking, and have finally come up with a plan that's sure to work. If I can just videotape that asshole in the midst of his charming, I'll have enough evidence to turn him in to the authorities. The cops will see the evidence, finally realize the sneak that Jew really is, and put him in his place. Not only will I finally be free of his lies, but I'll have finally won. The years of rivalry and fighting all caused by his out of line outbursts and outright jealousy will be put to an end. I'll be at peace to do whatever I want without him getting in my way. Now that's something to look forward to.

Checking my camera a few more times, double and triple checking to make sure I have everything I need, I walk out of my room, closing the door absentmindedly. There's no telling what time it is because the clock in the family room is broken, and mom's too busy being a whore to buy a new one. Not that it's a big deal. I know it's late enough for Jew boy's parents to be asleep and him to be up practicing his spells without the risk of being caught, and that's all that matters. Not to mention I have the advantage of it being totally dark, so there's no way anyone can catch me while I'm exposing his little secret.

I take my time making my way over to his house. It's quite a nice night, I notice, except for the fact that it's colder than my fucking freezer (I would know, I've been in it before), and since Kyle's house is only a few minutes away from mine, I decide that I can at least enjoy the walk over there. God knows I'll be too busy enjoying videotaping him when I'm actually at his house. Not in a gay way or anything, but in the way that I'll finally have him under my control, and there's absolutely nothing he can do about it.

I can't say what I'm looking forward to more: seeing him cry or getting the chance to finally taste his tears. Both sound so super awesome right now. I'll have a hard time picking which I'm going to do once that time comes.

As expected, I'm at his house in a matter of minutes. Since I have all the experience in the world of sneaking into and around homes, especially Kyle's, it doesn't take me but a minute or so to find the ladder that's always laying on the ground by the side of the house (courtesy of myself). I prop it up nicely against the side of the house, making sure to get the angle exactly right. There's a careful art to doing this, and if I manage to screw up now, it's over. I've got one shot at this, and I have to make absolute sure that it goes right.

When the ladder's in its place and I'm sure that the camera's on and set on 'record,' I start to make my way up the side of the house. Each step on the ladder is tentative as I keep a sharp eye on the window above my head. It's opened for some reason, so I have to make extra sure that I don't make any noise at all. Of course, I've positioned the ladder on the side that Kyle's least likely to see me, but that doesn't mean that he's not peeking out the window every five seconds to make sure no one is watching him. It wouldn't surprise me if he is, considering what he's probably doing in there.

...He could be doing a lot of things actually. Like...

I immediately punch myself in the head at that, trying to shake those certain thoughts from my mind. Not a good sign. That means the Jew magic is getting stronger on me with each passing second. I have less time to do this than I thought.

Finally reaching the top, I peek inside the window and feel a smile grow on my face. Just as I had imagined, Kyle's sitting there on his bed writing in a spiral notebook. So fucking predictable. He's so predictable sometimes that it bores me to tears. But I can't let that distract me now. This is important. Recording Jew writing Jew magic spells in five, four, three, two...

But wait. There's... something off about this. As I watch him write, I notice that I can not only see what he's writing, but that it has nothing to do with magic or spells or hexes.

_I'm gay. Homosexual. I like guys. Not girls. Guys. Well, more like one guy in particular._

...What the...? The fuck?

I think about this for a few seconds, still holding the camera up and recording him until I finally realize what exactly he's doing here. I slap a hand to my forehead as I lower the camera with a soft, irritated sigh, cursing myself for not thinking about this before. I'm such an idiot for not thinking that this Jew would already be one step ahead of me.

"Oh, that's real cute, Kahl." I mouth mockingly, glaring at him through the open window as I lean against the ladder. "Real cute."

Seriously, he thinks he can justify cursing me by claiming that he feels the same way about me as he's making me feel for him? Fuck, that asshole's full of himself. I can believe it though. He would stoop that low just to humiliate me. As much as I want to laugh at his effort, I really can't. He's raised the bar once again, and that means I'm going to have to go with another plan of attack here. Son of a bitch; making it harder for me...

I suddenly freeze in place as I hear Kyle shift around in his room, probably moving towards the window to close it. That would be just my luck. Well, it's late anyway. Like, one in the morning or something. I guess I could be going. After all, I have some pretty good info on him now. I'm not sure if it's info I'll be able to see or anything, but at least it's something that might help me out.

I scramble down the ladder as quickly as I can, literally diving into the bushes along the side of his house. Hopefully he didn't see me yet. God knows he would probably jump out of his window to the ground if he did. Or break his leg trying at least.

After waiting a few seconds, I peek up through the bushes, noting that he's too busy looking up at the snow to notice anything out of the ordinary. Now's my chance to escape. And even though I'm probably running the risk of him seeing me, I'll at least have a good head start if he decides to chase after me. Not that he could catch me anyway. I'm too damned fast. Sports do wonders; something he has yet to discover.

I figure now is just as good a time as any, so I dart out of the bushes, running as fast as I can down the street towards my house. I clutch the video camera tightly in my left hand as I sprint off into the night. I can practically feel Kyle's eyes on me as I run, but it really makes no difference to me now. I'm expecting him to confront me about this tomorrow; he always does. Again, it's something we both know. What he doesn't know, though, is that I will be the one ahead of him. When he makes his petty little claim, I'll just deny it and one-up him from there. Owning others is a talent I'm happy to have.

Think you can fool me, Kyle Broflovski? Think again.

* * *

Ah, so. Cartman's full of himself, right? Of course, it's pretty expected of him, I suppose. Still, I hope this answers (sort of) the question of what exactly Cartman recorded on his video camera, and what his motives behind it were (for those who have read DTM). If there's anything that I happened to miss, just shoot me a comment and I'll answer it for you. :)

That's all I have for now. Thank you so much for reading! And don't be shy; leave me a review telling me what you think so far. :D I promise I won't bite. I'll appreciate it if you do.

Until next time,

-Soul


	2. Chapter 2

Hi there! So, I know it's been awhile since I updated. It's just that I've been not only a bit busy, but a little uninspired to write. I don't know what it is, really. I would want to write, but when I sat down to actually do it I couldn't think of a thing. It's weird. Anyway, this one was a push, so I really hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: An irrational Cartman and an abused Butters. But really, the poor guy has it coming. You'd think that he would learn after all these years that Cartman isn't exactly the best friend to have.

Forgot to mention this last time, but I do not own SP or any of its characters. They're just being borrowed for amusement purposes. ;)

* * *

It's perfect. It's absolutely perfect.

As I set my bag down in front of my locker, I glance up at the clock hanging above my head and can't help but smirk. Getting to school early will never have paid off as much as it will today. It's all going to come to fruition in the matter of a half hour when Kyle walks through those double doors. I'm so going to catch him off guard that he won't be able to tell his left from his right. He'll totally forget that I was at his house at one in the morning as soon as I'm done with him. And when I have him disoriented and confused thanks to my awesome skills, I'll be free to study him as I please and get some real dirt on him. Then, when that happens...

I'll go in for the kill.

Again, it's absolutely perfect. Flawless. There's no way this can go wrong. No one can screw this up-

"Wuh-heya, Eric!"

...except for Butters.

Goddammit! What in the hell is this douchebag doing here this goddamned early?! The only people who are insane enough to be here at this hour are the teachers! And that's only partly true! Most of them are smart enough to sleep until the last minute like the students, becoming involved in a ballet performance of honking horns and shaking fists fighting for a parking space when they finally get their asses to this hell of a prison.

Then again, I may be getting ahead of myself here. This is Butters after all. Pretty strange kid. In his own league of strange, even. And with the oddest will to always wanna hang out with me. It's no lie that I sometimes read into something too much, but for some reason I can't shake the gut feeling that he... _likes_ me or something. And I always trust my gut. Not that it's something I'm really worried about if he really does because I'm totally not gay. At all. It's just that stupid Jew working his magic on me that's tricking me to make me think I'm really gay; it's something that I need to stop as soon as I can before I end up doing something stupid. Like... giving Butters the idea or impression that I am gay. That would just suck. Seriously. I'll never get the damned kid away from me if he's convinced I might be homo.

I mean, god... he's like a fucking splinter in the skin. But like any good, annoying splinter he needs to be picked out and thrown away. Starting of course with a gentle push in that direction. I certainly don't need him crying in any way and drawing attention to me. Not yet.

Putting on a kind sincere face, I greet him casually. "Hey, Butters." I say, trying my best to sound... eager of his presence. Not too eager, though. Again, careful ground I'm walking on here. As hard as it is, it's something that I have to do. Engage in a nice, simple morning conversation, "What's up?" and let him down from there.

"Wuh-not much o-of anything." Though he stutters a bit like he's nervous, he radiates nothing but confidence through his smile. I fucking hate it. My mind orders the rest of my body to keep its cool, but my teeth still grind together as he beams at me. He soon blinks, though, and tilts his head in what I'm sure he thinks is the most adorable fucking way ever. It's nothing short of annoying to me. "B-but what are you doin' here s... s-so early? Y-you always wait until the last minute to come to school."

That almost, _almost_ pushes me over the edge. Miraculously I manage to hold myself back, though by grinding my teeth even harder and clenching my fists together so tightly that my fingers are about to fucking snap in half. My upper lip twitches a bit through my now very intense irritation, but it's not like Butters notices any of this. Oh no. He's adorable fucking Butters who's as innocent as a fucking baby rabbit, just as goddamned oblivious, and something that really needs to be shot between the eyes because it's so fucking irritating-!

Whoa, whoa, wait a second, wait a second. Slow down, Eric. Don't take that chance of blowing your cover. It'll only ruin everything you've planned for up until now. Whatever you do, do _not_ upset him. Keep it cool, keep it cool. You can beat on him _after_ you totally own Kyle's ass. Just take a deep breath and...

Ah. That's much better, if only a little bit. I-

...Wait. Own... Kyle's ass? Fuck. I feel my face grow really warm as I start to mentally slap myself. I so should have worded that differently. And I would have, too if I wasn't being influenced by the very asshole to think this way!

Whatever. I don't even care right now. I can't let that get in my way because it'll put my plan in danger as well. The main part of that plan is to play the innocent card on him, and I can't do that successfully if I'm too flustered on the inside.

I start again with Butters, shoving all of those gay (literally) emotional thoughts to the back of my mind to go through some other time. "I..." I pause, making sure I choose my words carefully, "...could be asking you the same thing, Butters." Okay, so not the best word choice for trying to sound nice. It's a little edgy, but knowing Butters he won't take it too personally, if not at all.

He smiles again and follows that up with something that's even more irritating: laughter. Once again I have to make every effort I can to keep myself from losing it while he chuckles in reply, "Wuh, y-you didn't know?" I bite my tongue now; I'll happily endure the pain if it means he doesn't notice that he's making me so fucking uncomfortable. God, I swear if he catches that and takes it the wrong way, I'll- "I'm always at school this early in the morning!"

I take a few seconds at this to pause, blink several times, and give him my most incredulous look ever. When I find my ability to speak, I bother to tell him in a deadpan voice, "It's seven thirty, Butters."

In a matter of moments, coupled with the choice words I decided to speak just then, this whole thing has turned around completely. Now he's the one who's looking and acting uncomfortable, looking down at the ground as he plays with the hem of his shirt timidly. "'S not that bad...," he counters in a meek voice before looking back up at me, "Besides, it always gives me time to study before class!" That smile returns to his face and I roll my eyes, not particularly caring anymore if he notices or not. I mean, what a fucking nerd! Not that I'm surprised in the least. If there's one thing I can vouch for from all of this, it's that he will never cease to amaze me when it comes to being a loser. If I ever need tips on how to be one, I'll know just who to go to.

God, the people in this town fucking suck.

"Hey!" Butters pipes up again through the silence, drawing my attention back to him. "Since we're both here, why don't we study together?"

All of a sudden a cold, imaginary wind blows across my back, sending a shiver up my spine. Is he fucking kidding?!!! Me. And him. Alone in a classroom. 'Studying.' Yeah fucking right. I'd rather boil my skin off than do that. Hell, I'd handle my grandpa's balls before I ever consider locking myself in a classroom with this moron. Kyle's even, but that's beside the point.

And 'study?' 'Study?!' What kind of lame pick-up line is that?! He is so fucking desperate, it's sad. Still, I can put a positive spin on this. It's a good chance for me to get rid of him in that easy way that I've been trying to do for the past ten minutes.

"No thank you, Butters." I say in a soft, calm tone. "There's something that I really need to take care of, and there's no way I can get it done if I'm caught up in studying." Just for added effect I smile slightly in the kind of way that comes across as, 'Oh, sorry, I can't. Maybe we can do it again sometime. Now get the fuck out of here and go screw with someone else.' Hopefully this will get him to leave...

"Are you sure about that?" he asks, looking at me like he's actually suspicious now. "Calculus is harder than you think, Eric. I saw your last test, and w-well... it, uh... wuh-it wasn't-"

Before he can finish that sentence, I cut him off. "Butters, if I was really having trouble wouldn't you think that I would come to you for help?"

"Wuh, well sure!" he says excitedly, almost too much so, nodding his head up and down.

"Good." I smile tightly, nodding my head once. "Glad we understand each other. Now, if you would excuse me, I need to go take care of this..." I try to take a step away from him, hoping that I can lose him for a second before Kyle walks in. If I can just get around the corner for a brief moment while he goes off on his merry way-

"W-well, that's okay!" he chimes again, stopping me in my tracks, "We don't have t-to study if you c-can't. I'm fine on all that stuff, a-anyhow. I studied last night, so I really have nothin' else to do until cla... classes start." His voice drops a little in his strange way before it rises again. "Maybe I can help you!"

Waugh. Of course not. Of course he's not going to leave. Why did I fool myself into thinking it would be so easy? "No, it's all right, Butters." I say more harshly this time. "I don't really need your help with this." At all. In fact, you're already screwing it up without helping. "I'm cool on my own."

My eyes suddenly dart towards the double doors a few feet away as they open. A few students file in, adding to the mix. None of them are Kyle, though, much to my relief. Good sign, good sign. I still have time to mess with Butters and get him out of here.

"You sure?" he bothers to ask again, tilting his head in that... way. God, I wish he would stop it with that. "I-I mean, it's just a... wuh-a l-lot of things you do, e-especially on your own end up backfirin', so I just thought-"

"No, Butters." I cut in again in my harshest tone yet. But soon realizing that I'm only putting myself in even more danger of being noticed since there are more people here than there were before, I soften my voice and go back to my original approach. "I'm fine. Really."

"O-okay. If you sa...say so." He says, clearly unconvinced. Falling silent for a few seconds, he looks away at the lockers like he's thinking about something. I take this chance to breathe a sigh of relief, and make another move to get away. Of course, before I can move my foot he pipes up again. "What are you doin', anyway?"

I almost slap a hand to my forehead, but I don't. This is the question I've been fearing because I have _no_ idea what to tell him. Should I lie to him or just tell him the truth? There's not really a best option here, I guess. Whether I lie to him or not isn't going to matter in the end because no matter how much he manages to mess this all up, I'm going to make absolute sure that I come out on top in the end. And if it gets to the point where I have to flat out tell him to get the fuck out, then so be it. Fearing that I'll hurt his feelings in some way has never gotten in my way before, so I don't know why it's holding me back now. There's the whole attention thing, yes, but am I not skilled enough to turn the tables in my favor anyway no matter the situation? Hell yes I am. Besides, I probably can use his help. Nothing's more natural and normal a sight in the morning than me and Butters talking. It's the perfect set-up.

"I'm..." my eyes go upward in thought, "...trying to make Kyle look silly."

"Again?" He doesn't miss a beat as he asks this question, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"Yeah." I nod slowly, following his lead in the eyebrow thing. "Again. What, what's the problem?"

"Well..." he looks down, again fiddling with his jacket nervously, "I-it's just that the last time you tried to make K-Kyle look 'silly'," he makes quote motions with his fingers here, "it didn't end t-too well."

...As much as I hate to admit it... he's right. The last time I tried that it ended me with a bruised jaw, a broken Xbox, and my favorite... toy's head ripped off. All thanks to a stupid Jew named Kyle who just so happens to be walking through the front doors of the school right now.

Shit.

Okay, okay. I have one shot at this. I've gotta keep it cool. He hasn't noticed me yet, so I still have time to go over what I need to do. ...Okay. Got it. First step: play it innocent. Make it look like nothing's out of the ordinary.

"Actually, Butters." I say casually, looking back at him as Kyle makes his way over to his locker. "I did have a little problem with those derivatives. Could you just maybe give me a quick review on how they work?"

Butters blinks, but doesn't hesitate in replying. "O-of course! I can definitely do that, Eric!" Perfect Butters, keep it going. Give me more... "Now, you know what derivatives are, right? I gotta make sure of that first because if you don't know that, wuh, you're not gonna get v-very far."

"Yeah, yeah they're..." I wave my hand trying to come up with some bullshit whether it's right or not. "...Something to do with functions and stuff. Like how it changes or something." Come on, get on with the explaining. I eye Kyle cautiously again as he puts his books away, while Butters continues.

"Wuh, I-I guess that's good enough. Okay, so now when you wanna find a derivative, you use somethin' called differentiation. And to do that you have to..."

My ears gradually tune him out as I keep my eyes on Kyle. Now that I have Butters on a roll, I can go to step two: showing little to no interest in what Butters has to say, and acting as if I'm annoyed at his presence. Something that shouldn't be too hard to pull off. I do it everyday, so I have plenty of practice in this.

While Butters chats away at me, Kyle's eyes and mine lock in a matter of seconds. He narrows his eyes at me, probably over thinking something like he always does. My guess is he's thinking something along the lines of how I must have some kind of trick in store for him, as innocent as I'm trying to look. And that's perfectly fine. Let him think that. We'll see who wins in the end.

He suddenly slams his locker shut, turns his body towards me, and begins to walk. Here we go.

When he reaches us, Butters immediately stops talking. Good thing, too because I don't need him talking my ear off while I try to deal with Kyle here. Speaking of which, Kyle looks up at me with that same glare on his face, not saying a word as he does so. Guess that means I get to go first.

I raise an eyebrow at him and say, "What do you want, Jew?"

He waits a few seconds before choosing to respond. "What in the hell were you doing at my house last night with a video camera, fatass?"

Wow, what a surprise! I never expected him to ask me that question! Oh no, what do I do now? Oh, I'm so confused!

Which is exactly how I play it off. Look a little surprised, take a little time to come up with my answer... That's all it takes to keep him baited. Things are going exactly as I planned so far.

"What in the hell are you talking about?" I answer, rolling my eyes, "I was at_ my _house last night. _Asleep_."

His anger only seems to increase after I say that. Perfect for me. I swear, pissing him off is so fucking easy. What he says next is the best thing I've heard so far today:

"Don't play stupid with me, Cartman! You know very well what I'm talking about! You were at _my_ house last night at nearly one-thirty in the morning with a video camera for God knows what reason, and raced out of my bushes when you heard my window close, leaving me to find the ladder that you used to climb up to my window laying against the side of my house this morning!"

He pants heavily as he finishes, and it's incredibly hard for me to keep my laughter in. The whole school is practically watching us now. Man, is it possible for it to get any better than this? This is fucking awesome. Too bad we won't be in the spotlight for much longer, though because I'm almost done with him. Now that's he's all riled up, it's time for me to deliver the final blow.

I gape and blink at him in the most convincing way ever, letting him think that he's finally caught me. It works, too because he smirks, a look of triumph on his face. I almost want to shake my head at him. He's in so much denial. But I have to keep up my look of shock if I want this to work right.

Taking a few more moments to stare at him in disbelief, I shake my head and act like I'm struggling to find my voice. Finally, I say, "I...I can't believe you... Y-you sneaky little Jew-rat!"

As expected, the smirk is wiped clean from his face. Bingo. Check and mate, bitch.

I continue my mini rant as he gapes at me. Funny how the tables can be turned around oh-so quickly. "Did it take you a week to come up with that lie?! A monkey could come up with a better lie than that! At least plan one out before you try and start shit with me."

And with that, I simply turn and leave. I know that he's not going to be able to come up with an answer for that. Judging by the look on his face, all he's going to succeed in doing from now until the bell is standing there and looking like an idiot. The fact that about thirty people were watching that right now only serves to make it all better, too.

This game is too. Fucking. Easy.

* * *

Some time later I find myself in English class, possibly in the worst situation ever. It's quiet, boring as hell, and I have absolutely nothing to do. The teacher is giving us time to read our books, but who in the hell is going to do that? No one from the looks of it. Everyone's either sleeping, drawing on the desk, or talking in a whisper. Even Jew boy's not reading. No shock there, though. Unlike the rest of us, he's probably actually done with the book. Nerd.

Though... I wonder how he's faring after that little spat in the hallway this morning? Not that I care if he's crushed by it. That was my goal in the first place. It's just interesting to see him squirm under the pressure of it all. As much fun as it is to watch him fight for something, it's even more entertaining to watch his paranoid side.

"...about coming out."

My ears suddenly perk up at the sound of Kyle's voice. I glance in front of me where Kyle is sitting and notice that he's talking to Stan. The look on his face is serious, and that only serves to spark my curiosity. What are they talking about...?

"Of what?" Stan asks in reply.

I blink, as this doesn't make much sense to me. At first I was thinking about coming out as in... well, coming out of the closet. Which means they're probably talking about me. Yes, that's it! Kyle must be talking to Stan about his plans to screw me over. Oh, I'll bet he's feeling extra vengeful now after what went down this morning. I better keep my guard up...

"...gay."

I blink at this and furrow my eyebrows. Seems my suspicions are confirmed. He's trying to build his own army, getting people to side with him so he can use them against me later. He must figure he's in big danger of being exposed and is trying to convince everyone that he's the good guy before I find him out. Oh, real slick, Kyle. Real slick.

He suddenly freezes like something's struck him, and my glare gets harsher. What in the hell is he doing now? He turns slowly to look back at me before his face practically turns white. My upper lip twitches and I narrow my eyes further. He suddenly jumps out of his seat, yells for the bathroom, and rushes out before the teacher can even look up.

Hmph. Chickenshit. That's fucking pathetic. But he has good reason to be scared. There's no way I'm letting this go now. No fucking way. I'm going to catch him for this, no matter what it takes.

Watch your back, Broflovski. I'm watching you.

* * *

I think I have that all right. I have to keep looking back at Kyle's version to make sure I get everything matched up. XD

So anyway, Cartman actually won against Kyle this time. Of course, this isn't a surprise to those who have already read Kyle's version. Still, even if you have, it's fun to see it again, right? Especially through Cartman because you never really knew what exactly was going through his mind at that moment; you only saw his reactions through Kyle. If that even makes sense. Anyway, that's it for this chapter. I'm not sure when I'll have the next one up. My schedule isn't as stable anymore considering I'm not off for summer vacation like I was when I started DTM. I hope you enjoyed it, though! I certainly had fun writing it.

See you next time!

-Soul

P.S. Cookies to those who can spot the episode references I made in here. ;) I always have some somewhere in my stories (plenty in DTM), but I haven't actually mentioned it until now.


	3. Chapter 3

This is probably the biggest mistake I've made in awhile: posting this chapter. Why am I so damned impulsive? *sighs* Well, here it is. I should probably wait until summer to finish this story out, since people have more time to read, huh? Maybe go on hiatus for awhile until everyone has time for this, including me?

Since I don't think anyone even reads these, I'll keep it short. There's a poll on my profile page asking if I should make a DTM/RMA manga. If you care, go ahead and vote; if not, fine. It doesn't even really matter to me anymore.

Enjoy.

South Park doesn't belong to me.

* * *

I breathe a sigh and mutter under my breath as I watch Kyle run out of the room. What a sad, pathetic fool. He thinks this'll really convince me that he's innocent in all of this. He's trying to convince everyone else that I'm really the bad guy here; that it's my fault he ran out like that because I just so much as looked at him. Well, it's not going to work so long as I can help it. I'm not giving up yet; not until he's exposed and not until I see justice for what he's doing to me.

Stan, the stupid hippie that Kyle was talking to just a few seconds ago, turns around again to glare at me. I give him an innocent look in return to which he rolls his eyes. I roll my eyes back, and before we can engage in Supreme Stuck-Up Teenager, the bell rings. As soon as that bell sounds I'm up and out of my chair, seizing probably the only opportunity I'll have to grab Kyle's stuff. Seriously, there's bound to be something in there that hints to his Jew magic...

"What in the hell do you think you're doing, Cartman?"

I freeze as a voice speaks behind me just as I'm leaning over Kyle's desk. Turning around, I see Stan once again, glaring up a storm. Though glares don't really cause storms... I guess. I don't know, I'm not a paleontologist or whoever it is who does that weather shit. My eyes dart back and forth nervously as I struggle to come with an answer. Something convincing...

"I'm getting Kyle's things for him." I begin, hoping that this will be enough to get me off the hook. "You know, before the next class comes in. I'm only looking out for him, Stan." Okay, so it probably won't convince him at all, but at least I tried. Sure, Stan may be a no good, stinking hippie but he's not stupid.

He gives me a look, crossing his arms across his chest. "Right. I'm going to trust you with his stuff because you're the reason he ran out of the room."

Just as I expected. The little douchebag already has the hippie under his control. Not like I'm surprised or anything. Stan will listen to anything Kyle says and vice versa. If Stan wasn't dating Wendy, I would say that they're totally gay for each other. Unless... Wendy's just a cover-up?

Ooo. That might come in handy later. I'll have to write that one down.

Anyway, all I do is scoff at him and say, "Like you should be designated carrier of his things. It's not like any of it belongs to you."

There's a slight pause before he lids his eyes at me and replies in a deadpan voice, "Kyle hates you."

This of course nearly has me rolling around on the floor, laughing like a maniac. But being the sly guy that I am, I manage to hold that in, only letting out a small chuckle. "So?" I ask, bending over to pick Kyle's stuff up.

"Oh, don't give me that!" Stan stomps, moving forward in a more aggressive stance. "That's more than enough reason-"

"Guys, shouldn't we be getting to lunch?"

Stan and I pause in our little spat and turn to face probably the poorest asshole in this whole school. Kenny McCormick.

I smirk, as Kenny's presence has distracted Stan enough so that I can snatch Kyle's books off his desk. I stuff them into my bag quickly before he can see them, figuring I can find some deserted place later where I can sit down and sift through them. Too fucking easy.

"Yeah, we should," Stan nods in acknowledgment of Kenny's presence, soon glancing back down at Kyle's desk. "I was just going to get Kyle's things before... I... left..." His scowl immediately returns when he realizes that Kyle's stuff is gone. Because he of course still pins me as the suspect, he shoots me another harsh glare, barking, "Cartman!"

Looks like it's time to play the innocent card. Jesus Christ, will this ever end...? I throw my hands up in defense, knowing the perfect thing to throw him off. "Seriously, Stan. You need to slow down. Unless... you want to dislocate your shoulder again, of course..."

He blinks and shakes his head in what I read as complete and utter confusion. Bingo. "How did you hear about that?"

Seriously, I can't contain the smirk that forms on my face. It's too hard. Heh, stupid asshole should know that I always have the last laugh no matter what. But I guess, like every other idiot that I know and hang out with, he has this twisted view on reality that will never let him see the truth. Poor unfortunate soul. Glad it's not me.

"I have my sources, Stan." I reply coolly, closing my eyes in a smug way as I cross my arms. As much as I hate coming off as a smug douchebag, I really can't help it. This has all been way too easy. I mean, I seriously have this thing in the bag already, and we've been talking for what, five minutes? I hang out with such fucking toys. But I guess it can't be helped; not when you live in a town full of inbred simpletons. And now, to put the cherry on top, so to speak. "Surely you don't want another injury keeping you from your football practice, and in turn earning you another detention from dear old coach?" As crazy as that sounds, it's true. You apparently get detention from not showing up to practice whether you're injured or not. "After all, you are the school's quarterback; without you, the team's dead. Besides, I'm sure having to sit in an empty classroom for an hour with the poor son of a bitch," I nod my head towards Kenny, "wasn't exactly peachy keen."

Stan basically explodes at this, which only serves to entertain me more. Playing mind games like this is so thrilling. Though it's not as thrilling as when I do it with Kyle. He's definitely a spunkier subject to mess with. Things really heat up when I get going with him.

…

Why did that just sound like I get it on with Kyle? Like... get it on? Ugh, that's not a good thought. Not at all. Seriously, where in the hell did that come from?

And why do I... feel so hot all of a sudden?

Whatever.

"Don't talk about Kenny like that, you sorry son of a bitch!" Stan shouts, bringing me back to reality. Ugh. Don't have to yell to prove a point, dude. Really, how much fucking longer is this going to last? "...had a good time! In fact, we talked about how you and-"

His boring, lame, and extremely unimportant rant is cut off abruptly. Thank god, too. If I really had to sit there for another minute listening to his constant, obnoxious blabbering, I think I would have pulled out a gun and shot myself in the head. Of course, I don't have a gun on me. I left that at home. I have a knife on me, though, so I guess I could just slice myself to death. But then I would be acting all emo which is so not killer.

Well... it_ is_ killer in the literal sense, I guess, but it's definitely not cool. At all. Knives are lame for committing suicide; I'd much rather have a gun. Or, like, one of those chocolates guns with, like, the marshmallow filling. God, those things are so fucking good... Not peanut butter ones. The peanut butter ones suck so hard. Man, I'm so fucking hungry...

...But wait a second. Forget about chocolate guns; what in the hell did Stan stop his lame-ass rant for? Not that I care what he was saying. I just care because I don't trust if he's going to pull a fast one on me or not. That and if I can finally slip out of here with Kyle's shit in a somewhat normal way. He already suspects me of having something up my sleeve, which I don't. I don't want to make him even more suspicious. Even more importantly, I want to get to lunch before it's over. Seriously, my stomach is growling up a fucking storm here.

I focus my eyes on Stan once again and notice that Kenny's hand is on his shoulder. They're looking at each other like... I dunno, but it's really faggy. Maybe they're, like, secret lovers or something. Heh, and Wendy's the cover-up for _that. _That would be so fucking hilarious. God... I can... I can just imagine the look on her face if she ever found out that Stan and Kenny were screwing each other. I would savor every second of it, too, because that bitch would definitely deserve it. Serves her right for being the little skank she is.

Still, to me it would make more sense if it were Stan and Kyle... since they're, like, super best friends or whatever. Which is totally fucking gay and retarded. Seriously, they're, like, so fucking close to each other that it makes me sick. I wanna puke it's so disgusting. Like, sometimes I just wish that they weren't so buddy-buddy with each other because that way I would have Kyle all to myself so I could-

...Oh fuck! I so did not almost go there. I so... did... not just... Goddammit! What in the fuck is wrong with me today?! Shit, I'm spacing out way too much. And I'm feeling really hot again. Huh. Maybe I'm getting sick or something. Either that or that good-for-nothing Jew is working his magic on me again. I'll bet that's the reason why Stan's keeping me so long. He's trying to stall...

Speaking of Stan... where was I again? Oh. Right. Him and Kenny acting like total fags. Jesus, they're still standing there, gazing at each other as if... they've come to an understanding or something. And understanding that they'll meet up at the janitor's closet later, heh.

Anyway, they stay like this for a second or two more before Stan sighs in annoyance and gathers his things. He gives me a last brief glare as he moves to leave, saying, "I'll catch you guys later."

Kenny and I both watch as he walks rather calmly out the door (as opposed to the rage he was showing just a few moments ago), closing it with a soft click. Looks like it's just me and Kenny now. No doubt that'll change in a few moments, though, because I'm outta this-

"Not so fast, fat ass."

I stop in the tracks that I don't even get to fucking make, turning to look at Kenny in annoyance. "What do you want, Kenny?" I ask, purposefully ignoring the insult he dishes out at me. We both know it's not true anymore, anyway. "I'm taking Kyle's stuff with me whether you like it or not."

He quickly shakes his head and holds his hands up in an innocent gesture, just like I did with Stan a few moments ago. Fucking copycat. "Calm down, dude." he chuckles, "I'm not trying to stop you from doing anything." Calm down? Calm down?! Like I need to fucking calm down! I'm not the one pointing fingers and making accusations! "You can do what you want for all I care." Damn straight. "I just want to talk to you for a second."

Kenny wants to...? Ha! What a fucking idiot. Like I'm going to give him even thirty seconds of my precious time. If he thinks he's going to keep me from going to lunch, he's dead wrong.

"Talk?" I scoff, turning on my heel to head out the door. "What in the hell is there to talk about?"

"Well, you're at least showing some interest, though not as much as I'd like."

My feet stop at this, refusing to move as if they have a mind of their own though my mind practically screams at them to go again. Without even really thinking about it, I turn back around to give him an odd look. "What in the hell are you talking about?"

"Our conversation, of course." He answers without skipping a beat, giving me a sly wink that all but convinces me he's telling the truth.

"I don't believe you." I say after a slight pause, narrowing my eyes at him.

In return he shrugs, the smirk on his face fading quickly. "Whether you believe me or not doesn't matter. Either way it's going to happen."

… Was that... was that a threat? What, is he going to magically lock the door on me so I can't escape? Seriously, the fuck? If this isn't the biggest waste of my time-

_Click. _

…

...Okay, let me take that back and start again: seriously, the fuck?!

"Kinny, what the hell?!" I say his name in the same way I have for years as I grab the doorknob and shake it up and down in frustration. Not like there's any point in me doing it. I already know it's locked, so there's no reason for me to waste my effort. Might as well get this over with. Since he's so fucking desperate and all. Seriously, can people never get enough of me? I sigh as I think this, turning around to face that goddamned, arrogant smirk of his again.

"You're starting to get unoriginal, Cartman." he chuckles, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Can't you come up with a better plan than that?"

I blink several times and furrow my eyebrows before I can come up with a reply. It's not all that strong, either. "I thought you didn't care what I did."

He sighs and chuckles, shaking his head slowly. "I don't. Look, I'm just having a little fun."

...Fun? Fun?! Since when was he allowed to have fun at my expense?! I am seriously starving here, and I will bust a window if I have to in order to get out of here!

"Dude, just get to your fucking point!" I shout, not caring if the whole world hears me.

Acting like he's so fucking cool, he scratches his head and says, "You're acting a little off today, Cartman. Is something going on?"

Again I blink, shaking my head in more confusion than anything. "What in the hell does it matter to you?"

"Cartman," he sighs, stepping closer to me, "Dude. I thought we considered each other best friends. I'm just doing what any best friend would do: prying into your personal business and trying to help you out." At this he immediately smiles, a goofy grin that has me even more confused. What in the hell is this guy getting at, really?

"Well, yeah, I guess so..." I respond in a rather quiet voice, unsure still of what his exact motives are. "But dude, seriously, there's nothing wrong. I'm just fine."

He shrugs again, looking off to the side. "Okay. Fine." he says simply, "By the way, I heard that you sneaked around Kyle's house last night and tried to videotape him. That true?"

"Maybe..." I mumble, looking away as well. Great, don't tell me he's going to try and give me a lecture on this, too. These morons need to seriously stop accusing me of crap. Or at least stop listening to that stupid Jew and his lies. If they bother to trust a liar like him, why can't they trust me? What in the hell have I ever done to them? Try to prove Kyle wrong, since he always is? Man, maybe this Jew magic mind control has gone on a lot longer than I thought...

I feel Kenny's eyes on me again as he speaks. "Really, Cartman? Dude, seriously. What are you trying to prove?"

Oh, Kenny. If only you knew the half of it...

"What am I trying to prove?" I say in an annoyed tone, throwing up my arms. "Do you know what this Jew has been doing to me?! He's putting me under fucking mind control, Kenny! He's making me..." I pause, feeling a bit hot again, "He's making me think I'm actually into him! That stupid Jew magic he's using on me is making a fool out of me, and I have to stop him before he gets too far with it! You know, before he can blackmail me and shit?"

Kenny tilts his head at me, considering me for a second before he gives me his reply. "You sure you're not just making a fool of yourself without Kyle's generous help?"

I feel my eye twitch in anger as he says this to me. Now I'm the one exploding. "Kenny! I'm seriously! Kahl's playing a no-good, dirty cheater, and no one's bothering to see it except for me!"

"You sure about that?" he yawns, folding his hands behind his head.

I freeze in place, giving him a look that's both angry and disbelieving. "Dude! I thought we were fucking best friends!" I bark, stomping my foot on the ground. "Listen to me!"

"Oh, I'm listening." he says in a rather detached way, looking at me lazily. "Doesn't mean I'm believing."

I say nothing to this because I'm too stunned by his betrayal. First he claims we're best friends, that he's someone who's here to listen to my problems and help me out, and then he does a complete turnaround and says he's not gonna believe me. Maybe he's in on the whole stalling thing, too...

"Cartman, are you so sure that it's Kyle forcing you to feel this way?" he asks.

I shake my head briefly, blinking at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well," he begins, taking a seat on top of a desk, "Has it ever crossed your mind that maybe it isn't Kyle and his 'Jew magic' or whatever working itself on you, but the fact that you might possibly be gay just because that's who you are?"

Because that's who I...? Eh, is this guy fucking insane?! There's no way in hell I'm gay! No way! I only _think_ that I want Kyle because _he's_ the one making me think that way! There's no way in hell that this is coming from my own feelings! Nuh uh. Not at all. I would never, ever consider Kyle like that, ever. He's a retarded fucking Jew, and as smart and decent of a person as he is, I would never-

...Oh god. I did not just think of Kyle as decent. Or smart. I didn't. I so fucking didn't. God, I really must be getting sick.

"Cartman, you're spacing out again." I hear Kenny say. I snap out of my thoughts and look at him in shock without realizing it. He's frowning again, his arms crossed against his chest as he looks on at me. "Dude, you're letting this get to you when it really shouldn't be."

I keep my mouth shut. Honestly, I can't think of anything to say. I'm not seriously taking what he's saying into consideration, am I?!

My silence prompts him to continue. "Look, take it from your 'best friend,'" he smiles again, using a quoting motion with his fingers. "I've been in a lot of relationships, and I've seen a lot of relationships blossom right from the start. I know what infatuation looks like, and I know it doesn't involve any kind of magic whatsoever." He stands and walks over to where I'm standing, putting a firm hand on my shoulder. "Just accept things for what they are for once. Don't blame it on anything; not Kyle; not even yourself. Just let things run their course, and if they don't exactly go your way, then fuck it. It's not like you'll be in this town much longer, right?"

I stare blankly ahead, actually taking his word as something more than pointless chatter. Maybe he actually has a point here...

"Just be yourself. But stop pushing yourself so hard at the same time." he says calmly, "You don't need to waste your energy on Kyle if you hate his guts, right? You've already proven that you don't like him. And if you do like him, so what? It's not like you should care what he or anyone else thinks. You can do whatever you want, right?"

...He's right. He's totally fucking right. That dumb Jew doesn't deserve my attention anymore. It's all a waste of my time. And I _can_ do whatever I want! Fuck what anyone else thinks. It's when they decide to screw with me that I'll waste my energy on them. God, I can't believe I've practically forgotten about the most important thing here:

Me.

"Oh, dude." I say, refocusing my eyes. "Thanks so much, Kenny!" I say joyfully. My arms wrap around him in a brief hug. "I can't believe I was so blinded. Oh, thank you so much for setting me straight again. You're totally the best!"

"No prob." he chuckles, patting me softly on the back. We pull back and look at each other. "Glad I could help out."

I smile back and look at the clock on the wall, realizing that lunchtime is winding its way down slowly. Though we still have a decent amount of time left, I want to get out as soon as possible. I turn and walk to the door again, almost forgetting that the door is locked. Or at least, that's what I think. Just as I'm about to bid Kenny goodbye, my hand turns on the knob habitually, and the door opens as simple as that. When I do remember that the door was originally 'locked,' I turn and give Kenny a look that could kill.

He gives me a sheepish grin and shrugs. "Hey, it's not my fault you just jiggled the knob up and down a few times. You really think I would lock myself in a room with you?" he chuckles, "That's just gay, dude."

I let out a low growl, swiftly walking out and slamming the door behind me. As I stomp my way down the hall, I try to keep telling myself that he's not going to have the last laugh in this. Yeah. He's not going to have the last laugh at all. Seriously, if you think that little performance I put on back there was real... think again. God, it was so fake, I'm surprised that poor idiot actually fell for it!

'Oh, Kenny, you're the best, thank you for showing me the light'?! Ha! Like I actually considered for a second what he was saying. I was just simply preparing myself to stage that reaction. Like I said, I always get the last laugh. I always win, no matter what. Nothing's going to stop me from exposing Kyle once and for all.

I hold the handle of my bag tighter as I head down the hall to the cafeteria, preparing myself for the next act.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Wow. This is really... random. XD Heyyyy there, guys! I haven't updated this in awhile, have I? Yeah. Most of you know that I've been updating other stuff. And I have even more to update, but I figured that since I actually wrote this chapter I would post it. So here it is! I really hope you guys enjoy it. I'm actually... pretty proud of it. It's not bad. It's not bad.

Not really sure if there's anything else for me to say here. I'll let you guys get to reading. =D

Enjoy!

* * *

I stroll casually down the hallway, whistling to myself like I have nothing up my sleeve. But why am I saying that? I don't have anything up my sleeve. I'm only planning to return some things to my good friend Kyle since he ran out of our last class like a fucking pussy.

Seriously, where does he get off running out like that? Does he think that's going to prove his fucking point? He should know that I'm the only person that can do shit and get away with it. The only person in this whole fucking dump they call a school who has enough class and style to pull off stunts like that is me.

He thinks he's so fucking smart. Ha! We'll just see how cocky he acts when he figures out that I've taken his-

"Hey there, Kahl." I greet him sweetly, waving my hand as he walks out of the bathroom. There's no doubt that he totally looks like shit right now. It's hard for me to keep a straight face.

I'm anything but shocked when he glares back at me, his upper lip twitching in the beginning of a snarl. "What do you want, asshole?" he growls, pushing past me to walk down the hall.

I would take a moment to act like I'm hurt by that, but I have more important things to do than feed his little act. Attention; that's all he's looking for right now. And I'll give it to him all right. Just... it won't be the attention he's necessarily looking for.

"Shame, shame, Kahl." I click my tongue at him, "You shouldn't be so hasty." I catch up to him easily, putting a hand on his shoulder to slow him down. He shrugs it off quickly, purposefully avoiding my eye. Oh, so that's his little game. Freaking idiot. He thinks he's so fucking stubborn and cute. Not that that's something I disagree with; he is stubborn and cute, but it's just that-

Wait. What?

I didn't just call Kyle... no. No, I didn't.

Shaking those thoughts away, I look up to realize that Kyle's already halfway down the hall now. Goddammit! Why does he have to move so fucking fast?! That's it. That is so it. I'm not playing his little game anymore, oh no.

Jogging a little bit in order to catch up with him again, - seriously, why am I fucking wasting my energy on him? - I grab his shoulder and in turn put on a sweet face as I present him with his things. After all, if he's going to keep playing his game, I'm going to play mine.

Holding out his books to make sure he doesn't run again, I give him the kindest, most sincere smile I can put on in front of him. "Kyle, do you really want to leave all of your precious things behind just so you can get away from me?"

He blinks in shock, looking up at me with wide eyes. Oh? Is he shocked to see that I'm now in possession of his things? Oh no. That can't possibly be it.

God, I fucking love this.

"Why..." he starts in a slow, unsure voice, "In the world... do you... have my things?"

I smirk, trying my best to contain my excitement. I can't blow my cover just yet. If he finds out that I actually took something from him – though I don't doubt that he already suspects it – my plans are essentially ruined, and I'll have to find another way to go about this. "Why, I'm only trying to be a good friend, Kahl." I continue to smile in a fake way. My voice is so fake, too, that I'm about to puke from it. "You ran out of last period so fast that someone had to get your sh-stuff." I quickly correct myself, biting my tongue. Gotta remember to act friendly here. It's all part of the act; it'll pay off to come off as nice.

He doesn't seem to notice my close mistake. Heh, probably because he's still stuck on the fact that I have his crap. Such a smart Jew, though... it seems that he can only focus on one thing at a time. I guess some people just can't be as clever as me. I have... quite a talent it seems.

"You... _you_..." he enunciates, "Are seriously giving me my stuff back?"

"Yes. Seriously."

"...What in the hell did you do to it? No, wait... what in the hell did you take?"

Just as I expected. He already thinks that I've taken something. Which is true, of course, but I can't let him know that.

"...Nothing. I took nothing."

"Ha, nothing my ass!" he scoffs, crossing his arms, "I know you! There's no way in hell you would have bothered picking my stuff up just to be nice and give it back to me! You took something and you know it."

"No, Kahl, I'm seriously! There's nothing missing!"

I'm about to stomp my foot in frustration, but I realize that may be a risky and childish move. Risky because doing something like that will tip him off that I really am hiding something, and childish because... well, it's just childish. If there's something that I know about this stupid Jew, it's that he's as accustomed to my mannerisms as I am to his. In order for me to throw him off of my trail that I know he's already trying to follow, I'm going to have to act a bit differently than normal. It's like, I have to keep throwing him loops to make it seem like I'm doing nothing out of the ordinary, but at the same time I can't throw too many because then he'll suspect something anyway. It's a very delicate process; one that I can't flub up at any cost.

Although, I have every reason to seem impatient. Not only is there the reason that I have to keep secrets from him – the reason that he won't simply take his shit back and let me go – but there's the subject of lunch. Yes, I could be in the cafeteria right now scarfing down a nice cheeseburger with some Dr. Pepper, but here I am trying to prove to this stupid Jew that I've done nothing wrong to his stuff. That I've just decided to be a nice friend and give it back to him, and that he should get his panties out of a bunch and just take it back so we can go get some fucking grub before we both get on with our day. But no, he has to be a little bitch about it and-

Aw, fuck it. I'm sick of this shit.

I shove his crap in his hands, the fake smile on my face becoming quickly replaced by a frown. "Okay, fine. Whether you believe me or not, I don't care. Just take your shit and be happy that I got it for you, you stupid Jew. I'm outta here."

Without so much as a second glance at him I start to walk off, leaving him to stare into space. Wouldn't be surprised if he stood there all fucking day trying to figure it out. He thinks he's so fucking smart. I mean, yeah, he's like the top kid in our class which is pretty cool, but that doesn't mean that he's clever enough to outsmart me-

...Wait a sec. I didn't think of something about Kyle as... cool?

Man, I really need something to eat. My mind's playing tricks on me.

I've walked about five steps down the hall when I hear Kyle's voice call out behind me, still slow and confused. "Thank... you...?"

In return I roll my eyes, shake my head, and wave a hand at him. I don't say a word to him as I continue to leave. There's really nothing to be said between us. We're not really friends. Anything we say to each other is usually anything but civil. We argue all the time. Do I really want to waste my breath saying something to him that I know won't last?

I continue my trek to lunch, wondering to myself why exactly I'm asking all of these questions and why it feels like my stomach is sinking in something other than hunger.

* * *

A yawn escapes my mouth as I shuffle my way up some stairs. It's way too fucking early for me to be here. I must be going insane. No... I know I'm going insane. I don't know what to think anymore. I don't know what my next move is going to be.

Kyle's journal has really fucked me up.

_Really_ fucked me up.

Goddammit. It shouldn't be bothering me like this! I should be happy, ecstatic that I know what I know about him now! Why am I feeling the complete opposite?!

I'm fucking insane. There's seriously something wrong with my brain. I read Kyle's journal twice last night, – or was it three times? - figure out that he's a fag, and I end up doing what? Freaking out. I totally flip out; I flip like a fucking pancake and I don't even know why. I mean, yeah, I've figured for some time now that I'm possibly... a fag, too, but that doesn't mean I feel anything for him! No way! That's totally fucking stupid. He's the same fucking Jew I've known my whole life, the one that's manipulating people to cover his own ass! Besides, he's the one making me feel like I think I like him. If that even made any sense. Yeah, it's totally him!

...Or is it?

Wait. What the...? The fuck? I really am losing my mind. Of course it's him. There's no way in hell that I could feel this way out of my own damned will. I wouldn't ever let it happen. And if there was ever the possibility of me ever liking Kyle outside the realm that he's forcing me to like him, I think that I would rather shoot myself than admit it was true. Because seriously, me and Kyle?

What would that even be like?

Somehow, I'm bringing myself to wonder this as I walk into an empty classroom; a favorite of mine, actually. My gaze falls on the piano in the middle of the room and I sigh, taking a seat on the bench. I set my things down, quickly shuffling through my bag and pulling out the journal I've read over so many times already.

It almost makes me sick just looking at it. Do I dare look again at the few words that are causing me so much conflict? So much confusion? It's not like it'll help me resolve anything. It isn't going to serve me any purpose at all considering there's no spells written in it. Nothing. My hopes were and are still dashed by this fucking notebook. What a pain in the ass it was to take it. What a pain in the ass this all is.

What a pain in the ass Kyle is.

Seriously, he's probably laughing his ass off right now knowing that he tricked me yet again. I hate to admit it, but he's becoming more clever at hiding his shit. I'm gonna have to step up my game if I wanna rat him out for this.

I've almost forgotten about the fact that I was wondering about him and me possibly liking each other, but it sneaks its way quickly back into my thoughts. Without even realizing it, I begin to ask myself questions - a sort of self-interrogation if you will - about how Kyle and I could even work out.

First, would or do I even like Kyle? I suppose, if he wasn't such a whiny bitch all of the time. His constant nagging and bitching would get on my nerves, quick. Not to mention the fact that he thinks he knows everything, and wants everyone in the world to know so, irritates the hell out of me. Fucking know-it-all shit just pisses me off. Of course, that whole being smart thing is something I kinda look up to... you know, something I wish I had. I guess it could be if I actually tried. But still... he kinda has that natural knowledge; that kind of knowledge that makes learning shit easy and all. He's a smart kid and I... well, I kinda admire that.

Just that. Not him. That.

And... if I possibly liked Kyle _that _way, would he even like me back? For some reason my stomach turns lightly at this; I ignore it. It's hard to say. From what I always manage read on his expressions and in his actions towards me, he anything but likes me. It feels like he's not attracted to me at all. But then... why in the hell would he use Jew magic to manipulate my mind and make me think I have feelings for him? Does he just want to screw with me that much? It's possible. Possible payback for all of the times I've jacked him around. Still, that's not really in Kyle's nature. I'd like to think that I know him inside and out, considering I've studied his habits and shit over the years (not at ALL in a gay way, mind you), and he just... doesn't seem like the kind of kid that would do all of that shit just to mess with someone. Even if it's me.

Huh. Maybe I have this all wrong.

But... what else could it possibly be? He has to be screwing with me, right? There must be something deeper here; something that I'm missing. I guess I'm going to have to do more research to figure this all out.

Though... would I like to think that I have this all wrong? Like, that I have him all wrong? Do I... no...

...Do I _want _Kyle to like me that way?

I feel my stomach flutter and I clench my jaw. Fuck. I did not just ask myself that. And I didn't just react that way. No. Fucking. Way.

There really is something wrong with me.

I mean... why in the hell is my face getting hot all of a sudden? Seriously, that means I'm sick. Right? Yeah. And the fact that I feel like I'm about to throw up; that's gotta mean that I have some kinda stomach virus or something. Right, right. I'm... getting sick. Really sick. So sick that it's fucking with my thoughts, even.

Maybe that's what's wrong with me. It may not be Kyle's fault after all. This could all be some precursor to a stomach bug that I'm getting. Though I've never heard of a stomach bug fucking with your mind before... Strange. Maybe I have some kind of special stomach virus that's yet to be discovered. And I'll get so sick that I'll have to go to the hospital and they'll discover it as a new virus, freak out and shit, and pay me all this money if I consent them to treat me. Or something.

I shake my head and toss the notebook back into my bag, placing my hands on top of the piano keys. My finger pushes against one lightly, not really creating any set rhythm or melody as my mind wanders back to Kyle. To think, the very reason I tossed that damned journal back into my fucking bag was so I could stop thinking about him. And what does he do? He worms his way back into my mind. Just like him. I bet he would laugh at that; if he knew that he was troubling me so much. Again, I have no clue why I'm freaking out so much over this, unless I really am finding this as a way to subconsciously admit-

_Clonk!_

I practically jump out of my seat as the piano lets out a string of loud, low, conflicting notes, a result of my left elbow pressing down on them. God, am I really becoming that unaware of shit? This is worse than I thought.

There's a crackling noise above me as I continue to mess around with the piano, creating little meaningless melodies with ease. All those years of piano lessons seemed to pay off. Maybe I should work on that song that I'm being tested on next week...

"Good morning, students. These are the morning announcements."

I blink at the sound of what's his name's voice coming out over the intercom and stop my playing. Announcements already? Damn, I must really be spacing out.

"A reminder that the parent-teacher meeting will be in the gymnasium this Thursday at six. Please remember to be there if you would like to vote on what kind of cheese they will use in the school lunches."

I roll my eyes at this, poking again at a random key. Who fucking cares about that shit anyway? It's food for fuck's sake. Crap food at that. What does it matter what kind of junk they use in our food as long as it's cheap and manages to feed us? And tastes somewhat good...? ...With ketchup.

"Get pumped with that Cows spirit! Be at the football game this Friday to cheer on our boys as they take on the Banana Slugs from North Park! Goooooo Cows!"

I cringe, creating another string of mistakes on the piano. If there's one other thing that irritates me, it's peppy retards like that-

"And now a special announcement from Mr. Mackey."

Oh boy. Here we go.

"M'kay, students, I'm sure you all remember that-"

I groan in frustration, slamming both of my elbows on the piano keys and covering my ears with my hands. Leave it to the morning announcements to be as annoying as hell. Really, who in the fuck listens to these damned things anyway? Meetings to decide what cheese to use for lunches, rally for a football game? How much lamer can this fucking school get?!

God, I have _got _to get out of here.

"...will be all."

Soon I hear the click of the intercom being cut off, and I breathe a sigh. Thank fucking god. I thought those would never be over. Retards and their fucking daily snippets of poor news. The news I delivered back in fourth grade – that one time I was doing the morning announcements – was way better than that. At least I was asking questions.

Fuck. My blood's almost boiling now, I can feel it. I need something to help calm my nerves. Reaching back into my bag, I pull out my piano notebook and open it up to my latest exercise. I frown deeply upon seeing the notes. My piano teacher's a fucking cooky idiot. She apparently thinks that writing exercises and shit in a spiral notebook is the cool thing to do.

Using the blue lines as bar lines isn't very awesome, bitch...

Biting my lip in annoyance, I decide to begin. My fingers press lightly against the keys, gliding over them easily as I begin to produce the melody in a steady tempo. I really have this whole thing memorized, so it's not like I have to look at the page in front of me. My mind begins to wander again as I continue to play, focusing on what the song's really about.

Love. The song's about love. Or at least, that's what the written words written underneath the notes indicate. I scoff at the realization of how ironic it all is. Here I am, trying to clear my mind of feelings that probably aren't even real – and if they are, I don't know what to think about them – and I'm playing a song about love. How fucking pathetic.

I continue to play, not missing a single note. It's almost second nature to me now.

Kyle again works his way back into my mind, and this time I find no reason to shove him out. It's just... it's just not worth it anymore. Because seriously, playing the piano _always _helps to clear my mind. There really must be something wrong – still blaming Jew magic – if even the piano won't calm me down.

I begin to wonder again what in the hell it would be like if we were even friends. I mean, that's where we would have to at least start, right? There's no way we could jump into something so quickly. Sure, opposites attract I guess, but not that well. And we don't attract well at all. Kyle hates me, and I hate him. Or at least, that's what I'd like to bring myself to believe. His end is still probably true, but it's not so much for my end. Truth is, I've gotten a bit more lenient and lax with my insults over the years; I don't seek out his anger as much anymore because it's just... well, it's gotten boring for me. I know exactly how to push his buttons. I've picked him apart down to the bone, the bone marrow even, and I know exactly how he'll react to each kind of insult I throw at him. There's only so much he can do in terms of getting pissed off, and I've seen it all.

It's not only that, either. I've never really had any... true friends. I've called Kenny my best friend before, but that was mostly only so I could get something that he had before he died. It was a great thing to manipulate because I knew that if he died, he would come back sometime in the future. He always had that kind of weird, supernatural power; I think he still does. Still, he was never really any more of a friend than Stan or Kyle, and the friendship that Stan and Kyle still share is something I really... admire.

Heh. What a funny thought. I admire more things about Kyle than I ever thought I did. I need to stop that.

Anyway, I kinda wish that Kyle and I were on good terms in a way. Not just a fake friendship that I would create between us just so I could get something of his. No. I want an actual friendship with him. I don't know why, but I don't want it with Stan or Kenny as much as I want it with him. Strange, but true. Maybe it's the fact that I admire so much about him, but... I dunno. It's all so stupid. I mean, Kyle would never wanna be friends with me anywa-

_Clonk._

The mistake jolts me out of my thoughts, and I stop playing immediately. Holy crap. I never screw up at that part.

I feel my hands shaking a little. They're a bit clammy, so I take a moment to wipe them on my pants before continuing on with my song. Unfortunately, my thoughts go straight back to the friendship that I'll never have with Kyle in my entire life, and I manage to screw up again.

_Ding._

Shit! What in the hell is wrong with me all of a sudden?! Have I really got it that bad?! Don't tell me that Kyle's someone I-

"Cartman? What are you doing in here?"

Oh fuck.

Speak of the devil.

Speak of the fucking devil.

His voice startles me so much that I manage to fall out of my seat a second time. Jesus, I swear... I look up sharply when he makes his lame self known, and the next thing I know my ass is on the fucking ground. There's definitely no other time that I've hated Kyle Broflovski more than I hate him right now.

Defeated beyond belief, I try to save some of my pride by scrambling back onto the piano bench, giving him a rough glare. I notice that my things are once again scattered all around the floor, so I move to pick them up, soon realizing that his journal is somewhere in this mess. I mentally cross my fingers and hope that he doesn't notice.

"I should be asking you the same thing, Jew." I spit, hiding a smirk when I find it and stuff it in my bag. He's too distracted to notice, instead chuckling obviously at my amusing display of clumsiness. I consider punching him for that, but I'm too afraid that I'll end up losing my stuff on the floor again. Instead, I reach for the notebook in front of me that has that song written on it. To my surprise – and immense amusement; the table are turned, bitch – he mistakes this one for the journal I stole from him.

"Hey, you jerk! Give that back!"

Oh my god. This is perfect. This is too fucking perfect. He really thinks that this is his journal. Oh man, can I have some fun with this. For all the times he's screwed with me in the past couple of days, this is my one chance for the ultimate payback. And I'm taking it.

I pick the notebook up, waving it in a taunting manner. My grin widens when he seethes with rage. "And why should I do that?" I ask.

His answer is quick, as expected. "Because it belongs to me!"

Ha! What a dumbass. He really thinks this is his. Seriously, it's always something new with him. Some days he's easy as hell to fool, and other days I have to work a little bit harder at it. That's one of the things I love about him.

…

...As a rival, of course.

I soon frown, giving him a questioning look. "What's in it for me if I _do _give it back, huh?"

The question is one I know that will make him explode. I've always for some reason come off as a selfish asshole to him, so saying something like this will have him blowing his top off. Which is great for me. More entertainment. Plus, helping to throw him off of my trail. That's always an added plus.

He's silent for the longest time, and I figure that this is another chance that's been served to me on a silver platter. Now I can expose him for what he really is and what he's doing to me. Things are finally going my way.

"Nothing good, that's what." I say lowly, standing up to approach him. "I'll just be giving you the chance to make up more hexes to put on me and make me more confused than I am right now."

He stares at me for about five seconds before he gives me his dumb, pathetic answer. "What?"

I feel my blood boil in my body. He is seriously starting to piss me of now! I should have known he would try to play it innocent! He thinks that I won't take this so lightly! He thinks that I'm going to drop it like a fucking hot potato and leave it! He actually thinks that I'll let him go free so he can fuck with me again! And to think I believed that he knew me better than that. Shouldn't he expect me to bug him about it until I've got some goddamned answers? I mean, I know him – or I'd like to think I do – enough to realize that he's not going to give me a straight up explanation. I mean... I just... God, he's so fucking _stupid _sometimes!

"Don't try and fool me!" I bark, "I know Jew magic when I see it!"

"What the hell are you talking about?!" he shouts back. "Where exactly did you come up with this Jew magic shit?! I don't even know what it is!"

I sigh in frustration, not believing that I even have to explain this shit to him. I know he already knows. He just wants me to humor him. For some reason, I do. "It's the magic that you use on me to make me disoriented and make me think and feel things I wouldn't normally, just for some sick laugh!"

"You dumbass, magic isn't even real!"

"Yes it is! How do you explain us predicting all that stuff back in fourth grade?!"

"Gah, that's telepathy! It's not the same! And it's not real, either!"

"Well, I'm sorry, how would I know?! Your Jew magic is obviously working well since I can't tell the difference!"

"Would you stop it with that? I haven't done a single thing! I don't go out of my way to make your life hell like you do to me! I try to act nice to you, to be your friend, not pester you! We would actually _be_ friends if you didn't constantly belittle my people and drive me insane!"

I stop at this, his words striking deep in my mind. My mouth suddenly goes dry and my heart stops in my chest – well, it feels like it does – as his words echo inside my head. Seriously, that can't... don't tell me that he actually feels that way. How... how ironic. How... not so funny. How lame. I was only thinking about that, like, what? Five minutes ago? That I wished I could actually be friends with him, but didn't believe I ever would because he hates me so much?

God... do I feel like an idiot now. In some weird way I believe that he actually meant that, too. He didn't just say that because he's pissed off and wants me off his back. No. Something is telling me that he actually meant all of that. Like... he would actually be friends, wants to be friends, and the only thing standing in his way is... me. My constant teasing; my bigotry; my insults; all things that prevent us from being civil to each other.

I can't believe I'm just now realizing this. I can't believe that I had to have him show it to me. Maybe I really am the real problem. Maybe he's not doing anything to me. Maybe I...

...maybe I do like him.

I lick my lips again, feeling a blush spread across my cheeks. I close my eyes and promptly pick up my bag, slinging it over my shoulder. "I don't have time for this." Without really even thinking about it, I shove the notebook into his hands just as I'm about to walk out. "Take it back. I don't need it. Hopefully that will stop your stupid bitching."

If he has an answer for me, I don't stick around to hear it. I instead choose to quickly walk out of the room and down the hall, his malicious words still ringing in my ears.

* * *

Okay, yeah, so maybe those words aren't exactly malicious, but they are to Cartman. So deal. XD Kidding! Anyway, there you have it! Again, I hope you liked this update. I honestly have no clue at all when I'll update next. Seriously, I am so sorry this isn't as quick or consistent as DTM was. I'm just... I dunno, I'm just lazier with this one. But it's worth the wait, right? I hope so.

Um, yeah. That's pretty much it for now. Please review! I'd like to know what you thought of this chapter. Was Cartman's whole freaking out about Kyle's journal believeable or did I take it too fast? Because I'm not really sure. XD

Oh! By the way, did any of you watch the new episode last night? And if you did, what did you think of it? I'm just curious. Was it a good season opener or not?

Also, I've kinda been coming off as... probably bitchy lately. Yeah, that's a good word. XD I just wanna apologize for that. There's just a lot of stuff that's been annoying me. But it's not you guys, promise. You guys are awesome. ;D

Okay, I'm going to shut up now.

Thank so much for reading! Until next time!

-Soul


	5. Chapter 5

Hey, what's up? I know that it's been _forever _since I last updated, but I've been pretty damned busy. Really, really busy. With Kyman stuff, of course. I actually have a new picture posted on my dA account if any of you care to go look at it. I'll be updating some more things there as well, so just keep an eye on my page if you hang around there. ;D

And... hm. Not sure about anything else that's news. I've just been busy. I hope to focus more on this pretty soon, but I'm not really sure about that. I'll be going on vacation soon and stuff, so... we'll see. In the meantime, enjoy this chapter!

* * *

"I... I've got a problem. I think."

"Uh huh."

"Yeah... and, um. I... I think that maybe you can help me with it."

"Okay."

"Maybe."

"Right."

"So... you think you ca-"

"Goddammit, just spill it, dude!"

I sigh. Who would have thought that I, Eric Theodore Cartman, would have ever needed help about relationships? I'm pretty much the coolest, most chill motherfucker in this whole entire school, and here I am going to the guru of love for help. Now, don't get me wrong. Kenny can be pretty cool. Sometimes. The fact that he's poor as fuck doesn't do much for him, at least not in my book. Seriously, if I was one of the chicks he fucked every Friday night, I would at least want some kind of compensation besides his good looks and skills. Buy me a nice meal or something.

...Not that I would know anything about his skills. I'm just saying. Fuck, I don't even know if I am gay or not. My only apparent attraction is to Kyle, and I don't even know if that's real or not. Hence me going to Kenny for help. I figured that since Stan and Kyle are best friends, then Kenny and I must have something like that, too. And since we do – maybe – I figured that he would be cool enough to help me out with this bullshit. Besides, we have a few things in common. Skipping class being one of those things.

"Okay," I sigh again and look down at the cement step under my feet. We've decided to sit outside around the back of the school just like we did back at the elementary and middle schools. It's kinda stupid how all of their designs are all the same, but hey, the teachers haven't found us yet, so I'm not complaining. "So I... am having a problem."

"Yeah. I got that, fat ass." Kenny sighs in irritation and slumps over even more.

I bite the bottom of my lip and direct my gaze somewhere else. "Right. Ken... you're... you're good at relationships, right?" My eyes slowly move up to look back at him, and I'm a little shocked when I see that he's perked up a bit. Not that it's that much of a surprise. He's probably eager to get me with someone already. No doubt some girl that he's already had sex with... even though he knows that I have no interest in girls right now. That's evidently apparent in more way than one. Ugh.

"Duh." He chuckles and slaps me on the back in a friendly way. "How many girls have I been with?"

"Too many." I mutter under my breath, my eyes darting up to him to see if he heard that or not. If he did, he doesn't show it.

"Okay, so what's the problem? Who's the lucky girl?" He beams at me, leaning in closer as if I'm about to tell him the biggest secret in the world. And really... I guess I am.

My tongue runs slowly over my lips a few times as I struggle to form the words in my mouth. "How do I put this...?" How do I put this indeed. What am I supposed to say? That I have an apparent crush on the one person I've hated all my life and am still supposed to hate? Nuh uh. No way. Maybe I can weave my way around this, just give him an idea of what's happening here. Yeah. I'm pretty good at that. I've done that a few times. Like that time I had to explain what that picture of me with Butters's penis in my mouth looked like. Not one of my most fond memories...

"Okay. So... this isn't... exactly a girl that I like." I look up at him for any clue that he's gotten what I've just tried to imply. Obviously not from the blank look on his face. God, I hate it when he does this. He probably does get it. He's just trying to fake me out, make me think that I have to explain it to him more. Christ, he's almost as bad as that stupid Jew sometimes... I gesture with my hands as I say my next words, hoping to get the point across this time. "If you know what I mean."

He blinks a few times, and I'm about to slap the shit out of him when he finally shows some sign of understanding in his eyes. "A-Ah, ohhhhh." He chuckles and nods his head, shifting his body a bit to turn more towards me. "Oh, I get it." He winks at me and clicks his tongue, taking his elbow and nudging me with it. I purposefully scoot away from him as he chuckles a little more and takes a moment to take it all in. "So, you're gay-"

"Shut up!" I hiss, slapping one of my hands over his mouth before he can say anything else. My heart is about to pound out of my chest as I glance around warily, only relaxing a little when I see no one around. Still, I can't take any chances. "Don't you know how to fucking whisper? There could be someone listening!"

He rolls his eyes at me and proceeds to bite my hand sharply, a surprise that causes me to yelp and jump back a bit. "So what? Dude, look. We're totally fine. We're out here in the middle of classes, no one's going to be out here."

I give a nasty glare and turn my gaze back to my hand, running a finger over the bite marks in my skin. "Goddammit, Ken, do you always bite this fucking hard?" I mutter as I take the skin between my thumb and index finger and massage it subconsciously.

My body soon jerks in surprise as I feel a warm breath ghosting across my ear, followed by a husky, sultry whisper. "I dunno. Why don't I show you? I'm sure you'll like it, lover boy."

A low, guttural growl emits from my throat as I thrust my elbow back as hard as I can. When I hear a gasp of pain from behind me and feel that I don't have a presence looming right over my body, I spin around and bark angrily. "Dammit, Kenny! The fuck?"

"Jesus Christ, dude...!" He gasps and coughs, hunching over to lessen the pain of where I must have hit him. "It was just a fucking joke! Lighten up!"

"Lighten up?" I deadpan, furrowing my eyebrows deeper by the second. My voice rises along with my anger. "Lighten. Up? You think this isn't hard enough for me already? Is that what you think? You think this is all a fucking joke to me?"

"Okay, okay, chill out," he chides as he shakes his head and looks at me. "Goddamn." He sits up straighter and turns his body towards mine but keeps his distance this time. I guess because he's afraid I might beat his ass again or something. And I will if he pisses me off. I have no problem hurting people who piss me off. "Okay. Just tell me what's wrong with you and I'll help you fix it."

So. We're back to this again. Dammit. I had almost forgotten about it. Maybe I should regret Kenny not messing with me more now. Fuck, fuck, fuck, _how _do I explain this?

"Uh... right. Okay, so..." I curl my lips in for a moment and let my eyes dart around, not resting on any real place for more than three seconds. "You already get that it's a guy that I like." I see him nod out of the corner of my eye. There's no point for me to stop there, so I continue. "Well, this guy... I... I shouldn't like him. At all. In fact, I don't even know if I really do. He could just be playing tricks on me and stuff-"

"You think everyone plays tricks on you," he interrupts as he lets out a lazy yawn.

"Nuh uh!" I retort rather childishly, spinning my head back around to look at him fully. "Only Jews, gingers, hippies, and ghetto lowlifes like you!"

"Let me guess." He holds up his hand and closes his eyes. For a second he takes in a slow breath and lets it out before he speaks again. "It's Kyle. You like Kyle."

I make a move to comment back before I realize what he just said. The sinking of my stomach is nicely accompanied by my twitching eye and gaping mouth, -as I must now look like a fucking fish out of water- and there isn't a thing I can think of to say in return at the moment because of the immense amount of shock I'm in. Seriously! The. Fuck? How in the hell did he ever figure that out? I... I totally don't understand! I mean... i-it's not like I've ever shown any signs of liking Kyle before, right?

When I finally manage to shake off most of the shock, I open my mouth and say with a slight chuckle, "Okay, uh," I glance to the side while I pause for a bit of dramatic effect, "How in the hell did you figure that out?"

He rolls his eyes again and gives me a look. "Oh, come on. It's so obvious, dude. Ever since... I dunno, forever... you've done nothing but obsess over him. Fuck, practically _everyone _in our class has pinned you as gay ever since, like, fourth grade. Like the time we saw that video of you-"

"Alright, alright! I get it!" I bark at him, running a hand roughly through my hair. As I grip a chunk of it in my hand and tug slightly I can't help but think through what Kenny's just told me. There... there's no way people have pegged me as gay. No way. I haven't done anything _that _extreme. I mean... that one time he was talking about with the video... that wasn't anything that... I mean I wasn't... he...

Oh my god. Maybe he's right.

No, no! No, no, no. I'm not falling for that. I was just caught up in the moment, that was all. So what if I liked dancing and... cross-dressing... and... eh, I mean, it's not like I do it now! I'm totally clean now! Back then was a confusing time; I was dealing with a lot of rough issues! L-Like, like not having a dad. And my whore of a mother. And other stuff.

I look back at Kenny for a brief second and notice that he's still staring at me with a look. Goddammit, what does he want from me? He's so not going to let this go until I admit it, I know it for a fact. God. Dammit.

"Okay. Fine." I surrender with my head hung low. "So what if I am? Maybe? How does that still prove that I have the slightest crush on Kahl?"

He rolls his eyes again and crosses his arms across his chest. "Dude, it's like I told you. You've been obsessed with him your whole life. Planning against him, sneaking into his room, going to San Francisco to save him during that smug storm-"

"What?" I slowly grind out, shivering visibly as my blood turns to ice. My stomach falls down while my heart lodges itself into my throat, and my eyes stare blankly ahead of me. But even though I have the look of a mindless deer caught in the headlights, my brain is very active and aware of what's going on here. When I regain a little bit of my composure, I'm able to look back at Kenny in rage. "What?" I say louder this time. "How. In the hell. Do you know that?"

By now my voice has risen to a bold yell, one that has Kenny jump a little and wince. As soon as he figures that I'm through he peeks an eye open and smiles at me playfully, soon laughing like a maniac. I would reach over and wrap my hands around that pretty little neck of his and strangle him if I could move my limbs in the first place. Not like it would matter anyway. He would probably just get high off of that.

"Oh ho, I don't think that's any of your business, fat ass." He winks and pokes me on the nose, essentially giving me every reason to grab him and choke him. "I know what I know, and you don't need to know that." He chuckles again and relaxes. "I think you have bigger problems here. Don't worry," he winks, "I won't tell Kyle if you just tell me what's going on with you two. Are you wanting the little Jew for yourself?"

"I already told you," I growl, clenching my fists by my sides, "I shouldn't like him. I feel like I do, but I know that I shouldn't. And I don't know what to do."

"Hm." In a split second he's turned completely around, donning a more serious face as he addresses me. "Anything that may have encouraged this to happen?"

I blink at him and tilt my head in a questioning manner. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, was there anything that gave you a reason to make you feel this way about him? Was there a trigger of some kind?"

A trigger? I ask myself this and bring a finger to my chin as I begin to think. A trigger... Now that I think about it... there was that whole thing with the notebook last night. Kyle's notebook. Yeah. Actually, reading what he wrote made me seriously think about... stuff. I gulp and attempt to distract myself by reaching over for my bag, nodding at Kenny as I dig through.

"Yeah, actually. There's this notebook. It's Kyle's. He wrote a bunch of stuff in it, like a diary and shit," I continue to rummage past books and binders, still not finding what I'm searching for. Just as I'm about to insult Kyle for being a fag or something for keeping a diary in passing to Kenny, I find the notebook. Success washes over me in a fresh wave as I pull the spiral bound book out and flip it open to the page I'm referring to. "See? Like this. He wrote this and-"

…

I pause and feel that glow of normalcy dissipate like steam into the air as I begin to slowly realize something.

Wait a minute. Wait a minute, Cartman. This... this shouldn't be with you. This is Kyle's notebook. The same notebook you gave back to him earlier because he was being a whiny little bitch and wouldn't shut up about you taking it. You were in the abandoned piano room practicing your song and you were interrupted by Kyle who wanted his notebook back, which you finally gave, but you really didn't because it's here and not with Kyle. It's with you and another notebook is... with...

Oh shit.

"Fuck!" I curse bitterly as I jump up and shove my things back into my bag. I don't give Kenny any kind of chance to ask me what in the hell is up as I rush through the double doors behind us, sprinting down the halls to the class I'm supposed to be in right now. Before I act any less rationally I stop myself outside the door and struggle to get a hold of myself. Steady. I've got to remember to stay steady. Calm thoughts. The teacher doesn't notice students coming and going half of the time. Not that I particularly care for the sake of that; getting in trouble and all. Just so long as I don't draw any more attention than I need. After all, Kyle's in this class with me. He's probably already suspicious of me not being there on top of the fact that he's probably already figured out that he doesn't even have his own journal. Not to mention he already can't stand me to begin with. I remember back to our earlier conversation and feel a funny lump form in my throat. I don't have much time to dwell on it, though, as I notice someone walking back to the classroom- probably coming back from the restroom or something. I trot up behind them and follow them in, hoping and praying that I won't draw that much attention to myself as I walk in. I shouldn't, but I can't be entirely sure...

I manage to make to my seat without any sudden outbursts. In fact, no one seems to notice or care that I've slipped in behind another classmate and have suddenly taken my usual seat. Good move, my fellow peers. There's no need for any of you to swoon over me right now. My awesomeness can be admired later because right now, I have things to do. Very important things to do.

The view in front of me is the same as any other boring day of school. My perch across from Kyle is the same; same level, same everything. He hasn't noticed me yet as he's taking notes -fucking goody-two-shoes- from the board, so I take a moment to consider him.

This is the Jew. The same one I've known for years, the one I hate. Am supposed to hate. Do hate? Fuck, I don't even know anymore. I know I should, but... whether stuff has changed over the years, whether I've matured and am past that whole hating shit... or maybe the fact that his fucking notebook has changed everything I know about him and want to think about him... Speaking of which, I wonder if he knows yet? That he has my notebook and not his. Any other time I would enjoy the look of shock and then anger flash across his face as he figures out that something is wrong and I'm the one responsible for it, but this time is different. This is some serious shit. That son of a bitch may actually kill me if he figures out that what he has isn't his.

Even though _he's _the one that started this all.

God... what a fucking mess.

My eyes flit back over to his form and I freeze at what I see. He's taken the notebook out and is flipping through it right now. My blood turns to ice as I watch him sift through the pages, and I gulp when I notice his expression change significantly. There's no doubt in my mind about it now. He's found out. And now he's intent on getting truth as always.

I stare hard at him and don't move a muscle as he points at me and mouths very clearly, 'You. Me. After class.' Even the heat of his gaze can't melt my ice cold blood.

There's an even worse thought in my mind than the thought that he now knows about all of this; something that just now struck me and has me believing that I'll never have any chance of getting over this shock and anxiety. Now that Kyle has seen that notebook, seen the songs that are written in there -even though I didn't personally write them- I'll bet anything that he's going to use that as blackmail. Oh Christ, I'll bet anything that he does. It's the perfect opportunity for him. What better way to prove to the whole school that I'm gay than to expose that notebook and back it up with showing the notes I've written in there about Jews, claiming that it's just denial?

Before I have time to react the bell rings for class to end. Kyle jumps out of his seat almost immediately and doesn't even bother to give me a glare as he races out of the room. I scowl at his retreating form and shake my head. My fingernails dig into my skin as I clench my hand into a tight fist. Here we fucking go. No doubt he's standing right outside the door and waiting for me to come out. It's like a fucking mousetrap; there's only one way out and it's your fucking demise.

The notebook. I need that fucking notebook if I have any chance of escaping with my skin still attached to my body. My hands immediately grab for my bag, the chair I'm sitting in almost falling over as I hastily pull it up. I quickly zip it open and rummage through the contents, my heart hammering in my chest as I fail to find it. The. Fuck? I just had it, there's no way that it can be gone! I know what it looks like, though, and it is definitely not in here. Holy shit, this is not the time for this! I have got to find this fucking piece of crap or Kyle will have my hea-

"Wuh heya, Eric! W-why didja walk in late? And why are you all fidgety?"

I nearly jump five feet out of my seat as Butters's voice sounds from behind me. I waste no time in spinning around to snarl viciously at him, something that makes him literally jump in return. "Butters, what in the hell do you think you're-" And then I stop. How did I not see this perfect opportunity before? Seriously, this is awesome. I think my ass might actually be saved. Or at least have a chance. Putting on my best pitiful face so that he won't catch wind that I'm up to something -not like he ever does; that's why he's the perfect henchman-, I turn to Butters again and say, "Oh, Butters! I'm so scared! I accidentally took Kyle's notebook and he got really mad about it. And I was nice and gave it back except I gave him the wrong notebook, and now I think he's going to kill me." I gulp for added effect though it's not really necessary. Butters has already taken the bait and is nodding. "He definitely won't listen to me now because he doesn't trust me. Do you think you could go out there and calm him down for me while I look for his notebook? I think he might actually listen to you..."

He gives one final nod like the loyal pet he is. "Wuh sure, Eric! I'll certainly do m-my best! Didja need help lookin' for Kyle's notebook or do you have it under control?"

"I'm fine, Butters." I wave my hand to shoo him away, my voice slipping back into a more normal tone. "Just go out there and tell him that I'm really, really sorry about giving him the wrong notebook and that I hope he isn't too mad at me." I pause for a moment before glancing up and adding, "And that I'll be out in just a second."

"O-okay!" He chirps happily and walks around to the other side of my desk. "Is there anything else you need-"

"No, no, Butters, I'm fine." I scowl as my hand moves faster in dismissal, something that's due to the fact I'm already frustrated as it is. My tone is snappy but he's so used to it by now I'm sure that he doesn't take it personally. Either that or he doesn't notice. I continue to sift through my things, flipping through the notebooks I have once again to make sure there's not something that I'm missing here. "Just go out there and tell Kyle what I said. Go on."

Because I'm not looking up at him, the silence that follows after I shoo him off makes me think that he's still in the room bothering me. Just as I'm about to snap at him and bark for him to get the hell out of here, I look up to see him nod giddily and skip out of the room like the fag he is. "Alright, Eric! I'll wait for you outside the door, too." Oh great. "I just... I don't wanna have tuh wait too long... since lunch is next an' all."

"Yeah, yeah, fine. Just go, Butters. I'll be out in a second, promise." And though that could be considered a lie on my part, it isn't. I've almost totally forgotten about the fact that this is my lunch period I'm cutting into, and I wouldn't waste that for the world. They're serving parmesan chicken today, I think. Fuck, that stuff is so good. I definitely don't wanna miss that. And buttered potatoes, mm mmh! Okay, so maybe I lied before. Sometimes the school lunches are really good. If I'm lucky they'll have double stuffed Oreos so I can make quadruple stuffs.

I growl under my breath in irritation and look up at the clock. Fuck, I've already been in here ten minutes after the bell. Butters has been out there for about two minutes... I've probably lost my chance with getting Kyle to spare my sorry ass -not that I really care; I can beat his ass any day- and believe that I didn't give him the notebook because I was being an idiot. Ugh. Why can't things just be easy for once? I glance over at the door and feel myself scowl again. There's no chance in hell for me now. But maybe... I lean forward and look at the cracked door... Maybe I can sneak out without Kyle noticing.

...Er. I mean, that was my original plan. That's what Butters was for. To distract Kyle so that I could make my crafty escape. Yeah.

Fuck.

I stand from my seat and stuff my things back into my bag, this time double checking to make sure that I actually have everything. I swear, if I leave something behind somewhere again... though nothing I have now is really of any importance. I shake my head and walk to the door, peering out the window situated at the top so that I can assess my situation. As I expected, Kyle is still standing at the side of the door with Butters talking next to him. I can hear their voices rather clearly.

"...well, he wanted me uh to tell you to tell you that he's uh, uh-real sorry and hopes you're not... too sore at him."

Atta boy, Butters! I look over quickly at Kyle and pump my fist with a silent cheer. Yes! He's distracted. Now's my chance to get out of here and to lunch and my wonderful, wonderful food...

"Oh no, you're not going anywhere, fatass."

Shit.

His hand clamps around my sleeve and he tugs me back harshly. I roll my eyes and scowl, my anger and irritation only rising when Butters speaks up again.

"Wuh-gee, Eric," he says in a meek voice as he looks between me and Kyle, "Does this mean I can go to lunch now?"

I sigh in defeat and wave my hand to dismiss him again. There's no point in keeping him around, that's for sure. He'd probably make my head explode if he did. "Yeah, yeah, get the hell out of here, Butters." I swear, he almost squeaks in return as he nods and quickly scuttles off in the direction of the lunchroom. I sigh again, now fully aware of the fact that I'm alone with Kyle. There's no one else left in the halls as I glance to my left and right, and I figure that it's a reasonable thing. Seriously, who's going to stay out in the halls during lunch time? That would just be retarded.

My upper lip twitches as I look at the Jew still holding me. My blood boils in my veins as I rake my eyes over his whole form: his beady little eyes, his bony frame, and that big ass nose of his. Just like that bitch of a mom he has. Ugh. They both disgust me to the point where I wanna throw up. He's a no good son of a bitch for ruining my appetite like that.

"What the hell is your problem, Jew?" I figure that since he's not even bothering to pay attention to me even though he had the balls to stop me, I can accuse him first.

His eyes flit back to glare at me. I can almost see flames dancing in them he's so pissed. "I'm only going to say this once," he snarls, "Give me my notebook back."

Okay. Here's where I switch roles and play the victim. Which I really am in this case.

"Look, this is all a big mistake." I hold my hands up in my defense, hoping that he'll be the gullible little Jew he always is and take the bait. "I'm sure you know that's my notebook you have." Yes, point out the obvious and make _him _feel like the idiot. Perfect, perfect.

"I'm very aware." His voice rises, but only a little bit. It's nowhere enough to make me back down and be his little bitch. Nothing ever will. No, if anything, he's _my _pet. My lovely little Jew pet that's so easy to anger.

"Right." I nod. "See, I really didn't mean to give you that." Honest truth. "I just kind of freaked out and gave you that without thinking." And then the reason for the motive. The reason that's nothing but honest and makes everything seem like a big mistake. ...Which it was.

"Why?"

I stop for a second and blink at this. The fuck? Doesn't this bitch listen? He just lost bonus points for acting like a dumbass. "Because you were being a little whiny Jew bitch and wouldn't shut up-"

He suddenly cuts me off. "No, why did you freak out?"

He's thrown me for a loop here. For the millionth time in just a day -or something like that- I feel my blood turn cold as the rest of my body locks up. No. No fucking way. Goddammit, why did he have to catch that and bring it up? Motherfucking cheater! I'll bet he _knows _what it's doing to me. Those feelings he has and all that. Gah, it's all so fake. But... why does it make me feel this way? I-It shouldn't! I shouldn't like him! I can't! Sneaky little Jew rat! He thinks he can make a fool out of me... I've gotta make him think otherwise. This isn't doing anything to me, I'm not nervous- Ah great, and just like any other time he has to be fucking perceptive and actually rake those beady eyes of his over me to get my reaction! Son of a bitch!

Dammit, I have to save myself from this. "That's none of you business," I mumble, my eyes moving to stare at the floor. I'm bracing myself for his bombardment of questions when he surprises me yet again.

"Fine. I don't really care. Just give me my notebook back." And he holds a hand out in front of me.

I gulp and keep my eyes glued to the ground. "I don't have it."

A pause, then, "What did you just say?"

"I-I don't have it, honest." He stays silent for a few moments, so I take that as a cue to continue. "Look," my eyes finally make their way back up to him, "Let's just put this whole thing behind us. You give me my notebook back, we go grab some lunch, and we forget this whole thing ever happened."

"No."

"But why?" I whine. "I have nothing to give you!"

His whole body locks up in what I'm guessing is anger. He straightens himself and rises to his full height -probably trying to be intimidating though he and I both know full well that he's got nothing on my awesome height- before he growls out in the roughest, darkest voice I've heard from him yet,

"Because I am _sick_ and _tired_ of playing your little mind games; because I've had _enough_ of you ripping on me for being a Jew and belittling Jewish people in general; because you've been making my life a _living hell_ since the day I met you; because you'll _always_ be the same racist bigot who only looks out for _himself_ and will never be capable of caring for anyone else!"

If anything's served to anger me more than I've ever been, it's what he's said just now. "Don't talk like you know me, Jew!" Seriously, he has _no _fucking right to say those things to me. He's not me. I don't care how many years we've known each other. He doesn't know me that well. He doesn't know what I'm capable of.

His counter has me shaking in further rage. "Well, it's not like you know _me _considering you seem to think that my name is 'Jew'!"

I manage to give him a better answer. "At least it's true!"

"What I said is completely true about you, too, you bastard!"

"So what? That still doesn't mean you know anything about me!"

"Please," he scoffs and rolls his eyes, "I probably know you better than I know myself! It's not hard to read you."

"Like you're any different!" I spit back.

"At least I'm caring and compassionate!"

Whoa. He did _not _just go there. He so did not. Just. Go. There.

"Who said I'm not compassionate?"

"Don't give me that crap! You couldn't care for anyone even if you tried! Love and compassion is something completely foreign to you and always will be!"

I stop there and stare at him blankly, feeling something inside me snap. His words have my mind screaming something that I don't bother to push back. Maybe because... maybe because it's the truth, as much as I hate to admit that.

_That's not true! I do care! I care about you! You... Kyle Broflovski. You're... you mean something to me. You're more than just... a dumb Jew._

My body has a mind of its own. I can't stop it as I lean in as close to his face as I possibly can and bare my teeth. My tone of voice in my next words make his darkest tone look feeble and weak. Like it could be snapped like a twig, just like those skinny ass arms of his.

"Say that again," I seethe, "And I'll break your arm in half."

He gulps and a look of pure fear flashes across his face. It looks like my words have cut deep. I study his face carefully for a few more moments, still with that dark, menacing look on my face before I lean around his side until my mouth is mere centimeters away from his ear. My voice rumbles in that same feral, guttural tone as I breathe in his ear,

"You. Don't. Know. Me."

He says nothing in response. In fact, as I pull back to catch the look on his face, I notice that there's something wrong with him. Very wrong with him. He stares blankly into space, and before I can wonder why in the hell his face is so red right now, he stumbles forward as if he's about to faint.

All of the pent up rage I was feeling before, my body acting on its own and lashing out like a wild animal, washes away as I hold my arms out to catch Kyle. I call his name twice, three times and it's when he doesn't answer that I know that there's something very wrong with him right now. He's fainted. Out like a light. And I have a feeling it's all my fault. In fact, it is my fault. I gulp and look down the hall in the direction of the nurse's office before I look back down at him.

What have I done?

* * *

I pace back and forth in the small amount of space I've been limited to, feeling more restless than I've ever felt. I keep reminding myself that I don't have to be here, that there's no reason for me to be here, but still I decide to stay. My eyes flit down to Kyle's sleeping form again, and though I've been informed by the nurse that he's perfectly fine, all he had was a little blackout, I can't convince myself that he'll come out of this okay. What's even worse is the fact that I can't figure out for the life of me why I'm feeling this way about him. I should be ecstatic that he fainted from me getting too close to him. I should laugh when he wakes up, make fun of him for being a pussy. All I feel in my heart is the heavy weight of guilt; something I'm barely able to even recognize.

He's too confusing now. Ever since I looked at that stupid journal of his and found out his secret, I can't stop thinking about him in... _that _way. I would continue to blame it all on his Jew magic, but that's not possible because everyone knows that Jews can't work their magic when they're out cold like this. I sigh and stop in my tracks before I can wear a trail in the floor -as awesome as that would be- and look down at his sleeping face a little more closely. He's peaceful, I have to admit. In fact, he doesn't look like the same stressed Jew I always see; I never knew he was capable of looking so... relaxed. My heart flutters at the sight, and instead of trying to shake the feeling, I step forward, closer to him, and lean down so that my lips are inches away from his forehead. Before I can stop myself and convince myself to have second thoughts about this, I press my lips against his skin, holding them there for a few fleeting seconds before I pull away and stand again.

That was... rather nice.

Is this what it feels like to... like someone?

Before I can weigh the answer in my mind, I'm interrupted by Kyle. He begins to stir and I jump in response. My little experiment seems to have roused him, and all I can do is hope that he didn't notice it enough to put the pieces together. As I struggle to compose myself, putting on that familiar mask of irritation that I wear so well around him, my mind can't help but ask itself,

_Do I really have a crush on Kyle Broflovski?_

* * *

There you have it! It's getting closer and closer to the lurve, isn't it? ;D We'll see how long it takes Cartman to _really _fall in love with Kyle. And kiss him. And all of that wonderful stuff. X3

I really hoped that you enjoyed this chapter as much as I did writing it. This one was fun for the beginning and the end. Especially the end. Experimental kisses are just the best, aren't they? And Cartman in general is just a blast. So clueless and so in denial. XD

If you have any questions, feel free to ask! I'll be glad to answer them.

Until next time,

-Soul


	6. Chapter 6

Okay. Here's the deal. I'm putting this story on (possible) temporary hiatus. I have no idea when I'll start it up again. It may be next week; it may be next month; it may be next year. Maybe never. I don't know. There's two reasons as to why I'm doing this. First reason: I have little to no drive to write. This story is just... I dunno. Not so important to me anymore. And the reason for that, also the second reason I'm putting this story on hiatus, is this: this story just isn't getting any attention. At all. And I don't want to waste my time trying to write something that people won't notice. Besides, there are other Kyman stories out there right now that are just as good, even better than this one, so it's not you're really losing anything with this, right?

Anyway, that's the deal. If I have a reason to change my mind, I will, but right now I don't have one. I'm sorry for the few (maybe five people?) who are still interested in this story and want to see it finished.

That's all for now.

Enjoy~

* * *

No...

No. I can't.

I can't have a crush on him. That's not possible. He a fucking Jew! I can't like him! He's greedy, and manipulative, and downright despicable! There's nothing about him to like! I want him dead! I've wanted him dead all my life. This is just his ploy to get me exposed for something I'm not! H-his Jew magic! His Jew magic is behind this! Motherfucking asshole!

_I'm gay. Homosexual. I like guys. Not girls. Guys._

No! I've got to stop thinking about that! It's only making me feel more for him-

Wait... that's it. Oh my god, that's it! I can't believe I didn't realize it before. His spells aren't written out in a literal sense. They're written out... in that fucking gay-ass entry. The spells are somehow incorporated into those words -the ones that just ran through my mind specifically- and activate when I read over them or think them. Oh my god, how could I be so fucking foolish?

I hear a soft, almost inaudible sigh beside me. I look over to my left with a scowl, my eyes falling on the one person I couldn't possibly hate any less at the moment. Thank god my disgust overrides the weird, freaky feelings he's trying to put into my brain. At least I have some of my sanity left.

Heh. Sanity. Right. Fuck, when did that ever become an issue? Goddammit, I've been sane my whole fucking life. To change now, to let this _snake in the fucking grass _manipulate me to the point where I totally lose my mind... No. I can't let that happen. I can't let him toy with me anymore, and I certainly can't show that I like him in any way other than pissing him off and getting him all riled up. Not... that I do like him in any other way. The only reason I stick around him is to fool with him and to get back at him for all of the times he's tried to screw with me- just like now.

I'll get him back, though. Take my word for it; I _will _get him back. I'm a master of manipulation and it's about time he finally recognizes and understands that. He thinks he can outdo me, but he's dead wrong. I _will _rob him from his final laugh even if it kills me. Even though I failed to steal his final laugh so many years ago -it was really a minor error on my part- I'll make sure to get it right this time. After all, my social standing depends on it.

And I'll begin... now.

"Hey," I grunt in an indifferent tone, "How are you feeling?" Yes, that's it. Act like nothing's wrong. He'll take the bait. He always does.

He looks up at me with confusion splattered all over his face. No surprise there. He'll no doubt ask me what in the hell he's doing here, prod me for answers and shit, demand to know what happened. He'll most likely guess that I'm the one who brought him here -it's obvious; there's no one else in the room, and besides, if anyone else did save him they probably wouldn't have left until they were sure that he was okay- and demand why I did. I'm supposed to be the insensitive, uncaring asshole here, am I right? Why would I save someone I supposedly hate if I'm so uncaring?

...Wait. Why did I save him? Fuck, I could care less if he dies in the hallways of the school all because he's a stupid pussy and can't take me being three inches from his face. And I didn't even get _that _close. There could be the argument that I didn't want to get in trouble for just leaving him there in case someone else was around and saw me leave. After all, I skip class all the time. I've been in trouble before, and it's never stopped me from doing what I want. Teachers here don't do shit about it but give you detention, and half of the time they're too busy doing other shit because they're short-handed so it makes for an easy escape.

There's also the fact that he currently has one of my kidneys. I plan to take that back one day, too. I certainly can't have it spoiling and rotting inside of his body as he dies. If I'm going to get back what's mine, I'm going to take him to the hospital and have someone surgically remove it and have it put back in me while it's still fresh and useful. Then he can go off getting sick for all I care.

Kyle could use this to his advantage, though. He could claim that I took him to the nurse because I really do care about him, something that would further justify the fact that I'm not only gay but gay for him. Then again... I could just as easily use this to _my _advantage. Yes... he's a natural guilty person. Gullible, too. He believes that everyone has good in them. He'll believe that I was just being a good person and saved him because it was the right thing to do. I could lead him on before dropping the bombshell; that is, threatening to spill his biggest secret -since I do in fact know it- unless he agrees to keep this between us.

Of course... that's too predictable. I've pulled that one way too many times. He'll smell that from a mile away. Maybe I'm best going with my original plan of acting indifferent and avoiding his prodding questions. It isn't exactly what I might do, but that's the beauty of it. It'll throw him for a loop.

"Oh, hey," he replies, still a little disoriented, "I'm okay, I guess."

Huh. He's still too out of it to notice that I was the one who brought him here. No matter. I'm sure the interrogation will begin soon enough. Until then I'll just have to wait, and divert him in any way I can. Subtly, of course. And act indifferent. Normal, too. Anything to keep him guessing. Anything to screw with his mind, just like he's screwing with mine.

Though, it seems as if my 'mind control' – my hands on mind control; I'm too skilled to resort to wimpy ass spells like him – has already worked. He's suddenly fallen silent, trapped in his own thoughts as he stares blankly ahead of him at a stark, white wall. I pinch the inside of my mouth with my teeth and look away from him to focus on my own problems. There's no doubt he's just conjuring up another way to get back at me, or to ask me what in the hell he's doing here- or more importantly what _I'm _doing here. Not like he has anything real to deal with like the fact that he might possibly have a crush on his worst enemy.

I run a hand down my thigh to rest on my knee, absently picking at a loose string on the side of my jeans as my mind begins to wander. A few little things dart here and there, like what class I have next and whether it's really worth it to go or just go home and have a bowl of ice cream or something and let my mind mull on the more important shit, and it finally settles on that one thing. That one thing that's sitting next to me and is the sole reason for these problems. Seriously, what in the fuck can I do about this? I'm sick of feeling this way. He's not going to stop anytime soon, and getting him exposed is proving to be harder than I thought.

_Perhaps he's not the one causing the problems._

Whoa. Waitwaitwait, where in the _hell _did that come from? Is my mind playing tricks on me or something? Why in the hell would I think something like that? Of course he's the one causing the problems! There's no way that I'll believe for one second that-

_You're the one who likes him. You and only you. He has nothing to do with this._

Oh my god... I'm already going insane. For some reason that doesn't sound like my normal subconscious. Hell, it's not my normal subconscious. Something else is going on here, I can smell it. I wouldn't be surprised if it's Kyle and his magic again. I hate to admit it, but his psychic skills were technically more advanced than mine. He did manage to make the hospital lights go out along with collapsing the whole unit set up behind him. Damn him and his skills...

"Cartman? W-why... why did you bring me here?"

Ah. And so it begins. I sigh and run a hand through my hair. I can feel his eyes right on me, and I suddenly become irritated again. It's like they're raking the skin right off of me, exposing my bones to the world, to him. He's always picking things apart, and I know that I'm in no way an exception to that. I can sense his questions looming close-by even though he hasn't even asked them yet. Maybe I can read him as well as I think.

"And why do you care?" I growl in response. Even though I'm not looking at him I can give a good guess that he's most likely irritated now as well. I know that much about him. Every time I respond to his question with another question he gets pissed off.

"Because." His growl almost matches mine. I smirk faintly, but I think he ignores it. I quickly frown to ensure that he doesn't see it. Don't need him calling me out for that, too. "This isn't normal for you. You normally would have left me out in the halls without having to think twice."

I look over at him for the first time and find that my guesses were right. He's scowling at me, those bright, emerald eyes sparkling with the flare of anger. They almost remind me of the actual gemstone, but I'm not keen enough to give him that much credit. He certainly doesn't deserve it. Now matter what. Even though he looks like... he's blushing right now. Ugh. If he wasn't deliberately messing with my mind I might actually believe that he does swing that way. Of course, why in the hell would he have a crush on me if...?

These thoughts make me scowl. I'm more aware and on my toes than ever before as I answer him back with another question. Although, it's more of a crude statement than an actual question. "You just can't keep your nosy little Jew nose out of anything, can you?" It's no surprise that he can't. A stereotype, that's what he is. His nose is the size of fucking Alaska. I apologize to the state for comparing it to something so appalling.

I watch him closely again and have trouble keeping my smirk at bay as he turns even redder. Heh. Like a Jewish tomato. I swear, his anger is radiating off his body to warm my skin as I bask in it. It's the best thing ever. I'm more than happy to know that I can anger him so easily and get the satisfaction I need. I live off of his temper. Saving him when he and his family were caught in that San Francisco storm was the best idea I've ever had.

He groans and flops down onto his side, facing his back to me. "Whatever. Just leave me alone."

Fuck.

Of course. It's like he knows that I'm feeding off of his anger. He knows that I'm just waiting for him to explode, so he just cuts it off right there and turns his back to me like he's got nothing else to say. Oh, but I know he does. He will when I say what I'm about to say next. Let's see this little daywalker ignore this.

Touche, Kyle, touche.

"Look, I'm only looking out for what's mine."

Out of the corner of my eye I see him rise up a little to look at me in what I claim is shock. Looking over at him fully confirms my guess yet again. I swear, I know this Jew too well. Still, he's gotta be toying with me. He's one-upping me to make me think he's let his guard down. That he possibly likes me-

_Maybe he does..._

Oh my god, where is that fucking coming from! Is there any way to shut my subconscious up?

"What?" He asks the question in such a small voice that I almost miss it. However, with it being so silent and all – the nurse is in the back doing something random; open-heart surgery or something – I hear it loud and clear. But this is only the beginning, the tip of the iceberg. When he hears what I'm about to say he'll flip his lid, and I'll have that delicious, irreplaceable anger back to soak in. Just like I'm enjoying a warm summer day out in the sun. Mm...

I raise one of my eyebrows and point at his gut, ignoring the build-up of excitement in my chest. Not that kind of excitement, mind you. Again, I am not into this Jew for any reason other than his irritability. "Did you forget, you stupid Jew? You have one of my kidneys."

It doesn't shock me that he's completely forgotten about this. Why would he be obsessed with the fact that he took something of mine just to save his own pathetic life. He's a greedy little Jew, he doesn't feel bad for taking anything of anyone's. In fact, it's part of his nature. He was programmed that way. Despite these thoughts, I'm thoroughly satisfied when he growls lowly in his throat and snarls at me. That temper's returning fast. I couldn't have done a better job, honestly. Sometimes it's hard being this awesome.

"You fucking bastard," he seethes, "You are so fucking selfish! This is why everyone hates you!"

Me. The selfish one? How am I selfish when his _friends _are the ones who tricked me into giving my kidney up to give to a no-good ginger rat such as this? I could very well say this to his face, but I decide to take a different approach. Not only am I going admit to him that he is in fact right that this is why everyone hates me -I hate myself too for letting myself be tricked and fooled by a bunch of sleazeballs- but I'm going to see just how far he's willing to take this act of him acting like he's into me. I'm curious to see how he reacts. And who knows? Maybe it's all real.

Yeah right.

"I know," I bow my head and pick at my thumb to seem more convincing, "I hate myself for it, too." I chance a quick glance over at him and immediately regret it. I'm about to crack up here. His face is priceless. I'll admit, he's a good actor. I'll give him that much. Still, I'm the master here. I'll show him real acting. I continue, "I can't believe that I let my guard down enough to let those asshole take my kidney and give it to the likes of you. Even if it was the crappy one."

He continues to stay silent for a few seconds, but I can feel the anger rushing back through him stronger than ever before. It's like I can see it crawling up his skin, teeming like tiny little insects that are only strong in their numbers. I eagerly wait for the explosion like a kid waiting to blow out a birthday candle so they can dive into their cake; my skin, my whole body is itching for it. I wonder... does this stuff affect my sneeze? I feel like a fucking crackhead.

But this stuff is so _good..._

"I can't believe I ever considered you one of my friends."

I freeze here. It's like before. I don't know why, but my body locks up and stay stiff as I stare back at him with a blank expression on my face. This isn't an act I'm putting up to lure him into my trap, either, as I soon realize when I notice his expression falter from the slightest bit of concern to determination. I regret not making it a deliberate choice, too, because that's a good ploy. Ah well. It can't be helped now. Or maybe... it can.

"Never be... B-But Kahl," my voice is almost a whine, though I do try to keep it fairly in check so that he won't be suspicious of me, "A-are you sure?"

He gives me the perfect response. It's almost like he's playing along with the little game I'm pushing on him. But I know full well he's not. He doesn't play any of my games willingly. Well, except for Monopoly and Investigative Reports With Bill Curtis. Of course, that didn't really last long. Stupid bitch can't take AIDS even when he gets it for real.

"I'm more than sure."

And that's what makes this joke all the more worth it.

"Are you HIV-positive?"

He's quick to move, quick on his feet. That's something I first really notice now when he jerks his body up, rushes over to me, and yanks my collar all in one fell swoop.

"Don't you _ever _say that again. I. Meant. It."

Oh yeah. This joke was worth it. It was so totally worth it. Worth it more than anything else in my life. Finally, something tops that whole Casa Bonita incident. Of course, it's not by much. That was in fact pretty fucking sweet. Regardless of that fact, the anger is back stronger the before. I can really feel that he's at his peak now. He's so fucking pissed; his eyes are dancing with those flames that instantly warm my soul, keep my fire going. That sounds totally gay, but I assure that it's not. This is all for the purpose of my entertainment.

Our gazes lock for a few choice moments; he glares at me while I stare innocently back. We stay like that for what feels like the longest time. I'm too bust basking in his rage to notice a sudden shift in his demeanor completely. I only start to notice when he pushes me away harshly with his hands, pulling back with a raging blush on his face. Huh. That again, eh? Maybe it really is possible that he... he likes... oh my god. Oh my fucking god.

It _is _true, isn't it?

Holy fuck.

That is too... funny.

I laugh. I laugh hard. The joy spreads down from my brain all the way through my entire body, giving me a light feeling like I've never felt before. There hasn't been anything this funny to me since... like last week. I don't even remember what that was now because this is overriding that. Seriously, this is too. Freaking. Funny. I'm afraid that I might bust a gut here. Kyle will probably beat the shit out of me for this, but that makes it even better.

"Oh ho, man, ha ha ha!" I'm unable to hold it in as I hunch over in slight pain. Damn, laughing hurts. "I- ha ha- I bet you didn't see that one coming, huh, Kahl? Hahahahaha!" I bet there's other students in here that I'm disturbing for my out loud laughter. I could care less, though. I'm having the time of my life here. That joke mixed with Kyle's reaction and the fact the he's most likely crushing on me, _me _of all people... it's all the perfect concoction. So sweet.

The bell suddenly sounds, and Kyle's quick to move again. He heads to the door, throwing out a venomous answer behind his back. "No, I actually _did _see it coming." He slams the door behind him and I'm left alone.

Waitwaitwait, oh nonono. He can't leave yet! I'm not done with him! I still have to find out if my suspicions are really true! If they are... then I'll have the upper hand.

Sweet.

I rush out the door after him and call out to him, "Kahl? Kahl, wait! I'm sorry!" He continues to walk, so I start to jog, finally catching his shoulder when I'm close enough to grab him. I feel him stiffen under my touch and I can only guess it's because he's uncomfortable around me now. No doubt because of-

"Don't. Touch. Me."

I jerk my hand back almost immediately at his tone. It's nothing like it's ever been before. Fuck, I don't think I'm ready to handle _this _level of rage. He might actually kick my ass. He's hurt me before with just a single punch, after all. Stupid Jew magic that makes his bony knuckles feel like fucking knives...

"Look, Kahl, I didn't mean-"

As hard as I try to apologize, he cuts me off by spinning around and spitting out, "Don't you start that with me! I am _sick _and _tired _of playing your stupid little game. You're wasting my time. I've already missed two classes today because of you; I'm not about to miss my third."

I frown. Okay, now he's just pissing me off. "Eh, why does it matter so much to you? Oh, that's right, that's right." I prepare myself to mock his voice. High-pitched and everything. "Because I'm a goody little Jew rat who has to live up to my bitch mom's standards!"

"Cartman, I'm warning you!"

"Oh, I'm so scared." I scoff. "What are you gonna do? Tattle on me like you used to do in fourth grade?"

He twitches in rage, but does nothing to turn around and punch me like I expect him to. Instead he walks faster, distancing himself from me even further as he storms off to his next class. I call out to him again, not even sure why I'm bothering anymore. I've dealt with his stubbornness all my life, and it's more annoying than anything. Such a waste of time...

"Dude, chill! I'm sorry!" I trot up to him again and fall in line beside him. I don't dare touch him again. He told me not to, right? "Look, I'll make it up to you!"

He avoids my eye and walks faster, grounding out through clenched teeth, "I'm not falling for that, asshole."

Fuck. There has to be another way to get through to him. There's always something that gets him to rethink situations... I just have to find it.

But wait. Why do I even care if he take my apology or not? It not like I actually... _want _him to like me. Right?

I manage to shake that thought before I have the chance to mull over it as I run in front of him and serve as a barrier between him and his destination.

"No, really! If it's that important to you, I can't get you out of trouble. You won't have to deal with your bitch of a mom when you get home, I promise."

That he has to believe. I've gotten out of plenty of sticky situations, and he's been a witness to a few. Though I don't really understand _why _I'm offering this to him. It'll get him off my back, sure, but there's a lot of shit that can get him off my back that doesn't include me saving his ass.

I decide to ignore it for now as he speaks again.

"Like I should believe you! How do I know this isn't some kind of ploy, huh?"

"It's not all right?" God, do I have to break my legs to get him to believe me? "I'm just trying to be nice to you for once!" Yeah. Sure. Let's go with that. I don't even know what nice is... "There are no strings attached to this one, I swear it to you."

There. He has to believe that, right? I'm never nice to him, and I never admit that I'm doing something that doesn't have anything hidden behind it. Right. Maybe not... There _are _a lot of things I've done that I've said outright have things hidden behind them. Huh. Well, no wonder he doesn't believe me. But... he _is _a stupid Jew. I blame it on his lack of gullibility. That and his lack of trust. Really, I have nothing up my sleeve!

Of course, he still doesn't believe this. "No. I don't believe you. You're not doing this just for me. There's got to be some kind of benefit for in this somewhere, otherwise you wouldn't be offering this to me."

I take a second and consider this again. Maybe he _does _have a point. I kinda do wanna get him on my good side. Maybe to see if these feelings I'm having are, like... legitimate or something. Still, he doesn't have to know this. "Well," I say as I stroke my chin in thought, "I suppose there is _some _kind of benefit in it for me, but-"

"I knew it!" He interrupts me with a scream and stomps his foot in irritation. "I swear, you will never change, will you? It's all just a game, isn't it?"

I back up a bit from him, a worried look on my face. But... can't he see that I'm changing? I'm not completely sure, but... I am changing my ways little by little, I believe. As mentioned before, I'm offering him this chance in order to get on his good side. Not to screw him over necessarily, but to see if what I'm feeling for him right now is real. I am doing it for my own benefit, yes, but I'm not trying to hurt him in any way. At least, I don't think I am.

"Kahl, I-"

"Forget. It," he snarls through clenched teeth as he pushes past me to leave. He suddenly turns back around and faces me to say,"Honestly, I don't know what I see in y-"

He wastes no time in clapping both of his hands over his mouth. I immediately blink in return as I complete that sentence for him in my head.

"_I don't know what I see in you." _

This can only mean one thing. And that one thing is something I've kinda feared all this time. Now there's no reason for me to drop this. No, I have to figure this out. This is something that needs to be settled right here, right now. I don't want to feel this way for him, but the thought that he does back... well, that just about settles the score.

This is too good.

I put on a confused face as I address him. "What?" My voice is but a mere whisper, but with the few students walking through the halls ahead of us it's easy to hear. "What did you just say, Jew?"

But he doesn't give me answer. I didn't much expect him to, either. He instead turns around and bolts towards the mass of students now in the commons area headed for their classes, and it's then that I know I have my answer. If he was faking this he wouldn't have reacted like _that. _That's a little too dramatic, even for my tastes. No. I know it now. And that knowledge is giving me and overwhelming sense of fear, victory, and sickness that might have me throwing up the four Pop Tarts I had for breakfast this morning.

Kyle Broflovski has a crush on me.

I smirk to myself as I watch him race through the crowd.

Oh, I've got him now.

* * *

And yes. I know I'm leaving this with a cliffhanger. I'm terrible, aren't I?

So that's it for now. If you want this story finished, eh. Maybe I'll consider it later. Right now it's out of the question. And if you don't care, fine. That'll give me less of a reason to update it, though.

Until next time (maybe),

-Soul


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: As some of you know, I came back last week after a long break with a oneshot. Well, I felt bad about neglecting this and putting on hiatus, so I decided to work on it, as hard as it was. So... I guess you can say I'm really back. For reals? I don't know, really. I'm going to try, though. It's not that I've lost complete interest in this story; I just want it done as soon as possible because I want to try something new and fresh. Plus, I can't leave you guys hanging, right? ;D

Updates are still going to be iffy with this because I'm not sure how much I can get done on a certain day. Like most of you, I'm in school, and I have homework to do and everything. Still, I'm going to try my best to get these chapters out there since the story's starting to pick-up. So yeah. Bear with me here, I'm trying my best. X3

Anyway, here's the next chapter. Enjoy!

* * *

I walk into my next class still a little confused. My mind is so bogged down with what just happened with Kyle in the hall (who I plan to now avoid, for various reasons) that I can't even remember which class I'm supposed to be in. Am I even in the right classroom? My body is on total autopilot, even as I pull out my notebook and place it on my desk. Before I consider opening it and turning to my usual doodle page – every class I have is boring, doodling is a must – I stop and once again mull over what I'm feeling and whether I should be feeling it or not.

Kyle likes me. Obviously. His running out explains that much. That and the blush. I feel multiple feelings when he runs out. Sickness, nausea, butterflies – all of those things where there. But the question is, should I be feeling those things now? Should I have felt them then? Was it a valid thing for me to feel? I also felt my sense of victory, triumph, _domination. _Those were all mandatory, of course, but what about the others? Was it right for me to... experience them as well?

Am I supposed to accept them?

There's no honest answer for me right now. Things are so muddy and mixed up and confusing that I can't see a clear road for me to take. Instead of a fork on the road, where there are two paths, I'm in a maze where any which way intersects with the other and you have to fight your way through walls and sharp turns to get to that cheese at the end. And boy, does cheese sound pretty good right now. Mom better have bought some more cheddar, because I'm definitely going to need some of that shit when I get home.

Wait. What am I thinking? I can't be thinking about cheese right now. I need to focus, figure this out. It's important, but at the same time it's not. The possibility of liking Kyle isn't something I want to deem as important, not something I want to waste my precious time worrying about, but it's something I have to address no matter what. It's like he's slowly taking over my mind. In a sense he is, and that's something I need to fix before I go completely insane.

First of all, Kyle's a Jew. Reason enough for me to forget about him and not like him, correct? But it's not that simple with his Jew magic placed on me. If there's no way now to figure out how he's casting these spells on me and why, then maybe there's no hope for me at all. I'll have to end up falling right into his trap, where I'm stripped of any ability to get out, and I'll have to wait out his game until the very end, where he essentially 'breaks my heart,' and confesses that he's been playing me for a fool the whole time.

_But is that really Kyle? Or is that just you placing your habits on him?_

That tiny voice in the back of my mind hits me again, and I blink in slight shock. And for some reason, likely due to an out of character experience, I stop and consider it. Yes, what if I took the Jew magic out of the equation, and took things at face value? Kyle freaked out about me videotaping him at his house the other night; I take his notebook, and he becomes defensive and nervous; he faints when I get too close to him, and as a result of taking him to the nurse, he questions me and later runs off in a moment of embarrassment after he makes a mistake in his speech. Some of these instances, if not most of them, have involved him blushing or flushing at all of the right moments, his eyes lighting up as if they were flipped on by a switch. It's very obvious that he just plainly likes me, when I look at it this way.

But still, where does that leave me?

That can't possibly determine that I like him back, though. Even considering the fact that when I think of him, even right now, I get a queasy, strange, pleasant yet unpleasant churning in my stomach. Back in the nurse's office, when Kyle was still out, I asked myself if that feeling was really what it felt like to like someone. As if I didn't know... But that was a lie. There was the implication there that I had never had a feeling like that before, that I had never really liked someone before, but that's not true at all.

Wendy...

Back in third grade, I found that I had fallen for her. She had fallen for me, too, or at least, that was what I had thought. In the end of our short-term affair, before she ran back off with her pussylicker boyfriend Stan, she said to me that what Bebe had told her about pressure had been right. Her feelings weren't real feelings. They were a result of close proximity, sexual tension that could only be released by a passionate, misleading kiss...

"_I can't believe how right Bebe was about feeling under pressure with somebody. As soon as it was over, all my feelings for you just vanished."_

'All of my feelings for you just vanished...'

I've never forgotten that day. My first feeling of love, of joy and completion... ripped away in an instant, crushing my heart and letting it flop and flail about on the ground like a weak fish. Even though I was easily able to move on from that pain, lashing back out at Wendy from then on and calling her a bitch whenever necessary – which is always as far as I'm concerned – it was still something that burned into my mind to remember up until now. And the more I think about it, the more I see it applying to the situation here. Kyle and I are essentially in the same boat here, if my new suspicions are true. The only difference is that our roles are switched; he's the one hopelessly in love with me, the moronic fool, and here I am stuck with nothing but sexual tension driving me to _think _I like him. The only way I can fix this whole fiasco...

...is to kiss him and let those feelings vanish into thin air.

I bite my lip and run a tight, strong hand through my hair. This is going to be a stretch...

But I'll do it.

* * *

My messenger bag bumps with each quick step I take towards the front of Kyle's house. Why am I at Kyle's house exactly? Well, it just so happens that I've decided to go about this whole in a... hypocritical way. Basically, to do what I suspected Kyle of doing to me. That is, do nice deeds for him, get him on my good side, and determine if I actually love him back. I won't be blackmailing him during this, no, but I consider that as one of those kind acts I'm doing for him. He should consider himself lucky that I'm being so lenient and lax about this.

It's for a good cause. I tell myself this even as I walk up the steps of Kyle's front porch and prepare to knock on the door and face his monster of a mother. She hasn't treated me too terribly over the years, as she isn't aware of half of the things I've done to her son, but that doesn't stop me from despising her. Even if Kyle and I end up married, I'll still hate-

I immediately stop, feeling an odd shiver run down by my spine, a flush on my cheeks following soon after. Fuck... I'm starting to freak out here. If I'm starting to think about things like that... I mean, I can't. I just can't. Not yet. Nothing's set in stone, Cartman, you're just caught up in a whole clusterfuck of sexual tension and you can't. Say. You love him. You can't.

The sudden dryness in my throat has me diving right in, and I knock on the door before I decide to chicken out, and before I waste too much time gawking at Kyle's front door. Because even though I've skipped out on the last half of my last period class, that doesn't mean I have all the time in the world to do this before Kyle gets home. I shuffle my feet nervously on the concrete steps and knock off the snow on my shoes, silently hoping that it'll be Kyle's dad who answers the door, just because he's easier to deal with and he likes me better. I think. But, much to my dismay, it's Kyle's mom who greets me with a confused smile and that awful... speech of hers. I hide my disappointment with the thought that I should have known better than to think Kyle's dad would even be home now; the man does work, after all.

"Why, hello there, Eric," she says, "What brings you here? Shouldn't you be at school like everyone else?"

I can't figure out why in the hell she cares about me getting my 'education,' seeing as how I'm not her son, but I don't take too much time thinking about it. I simply smile as politely as I can in return, and give her a slightly concerned look as I reply. "I'm coming on behalf of Kyle, Mrs. Broflovski. You see, he fainted at school today because he wasn't feeling so well. I took him to the nurse, as I was the only one around, and it took him a bit to recover. You know, for the nurse to check him out and everything. He ended up missing one of his classes, and I just wanted to let you know what happened to him so that you won't be confused and think that he was skipping or anything."

I expect for her to take that statement offensively almost, since I basically just suggested that her son could be a no-good delinquent, but to my shock she just gasps and clasps a hand over her big mouth that's smeared with a disgusting, red lipstick. "Oh my stars!" she exclaims, "Is my baby okay? Did he not take his insulin and get low? I told him those things are important, but he doesn't seem to listen-"

"Mrs. Broflovski!" I interrupt her before she faints too, "Kyle is fine. Like I said, I took him to the nurse's office, and they checked him out a good fifteen minutes later. All he said was that he felt a little hot, and they took his temperature, his blood sugar, everything, and he was fine. It was just a freak accident, I swear." My body heats up at what I know as an obvious lie, but I hold it down and keep my same, normal expression as I look at her.

She seems to calm down, if only a little bit. "Oh, thank goodness." She breathes out a long sigh of relief and places a fat hand over her even fatter chest. I barely scrunch my face in disgust and focus my eye somewhere else, at the door frame. "I would be devastated if anything ever happened to my little bubbe. Oh, thank you so much, Eric. I appreciate it." She looks at me, catching my eye, and fairly sincere look on her face. "You've really matured over the years. You're not the same little delinquent I remember."

My body goes rigid at this comment, but I still issue her a fake, tight smile and nod my head in approval. "Well, thank you, ma'am. I'm glad you think so. I'm just doing what's right."

After a few more words of exchange, we trade goodbyes, and I walk away from Kyle's house quickly out to my car. I jump inside, and when I'm sure Kyle's mom is out of sight and can't see me, I roll my eyes and give the house the finger. I dig my keys out of my pocket and stick the one for the car into the ignition, starting her right up as I sit back and let the heater warm up. This gives me time to think over what I just did, and just how justifiable it was, especially considering I willingly, _willingly _talked to Kyle's mom about him and his problem at school. I actually saved Kyle from getting in trouble, when I could have instead sat back and laughed at what his bitch of a mom would have done to him for missing class when she got that call from the school. What I did was nice, but it was also out of character, and there's no doubt in my mind that I'll be getting a call from Kyle about this later. He'll be asking me all sorts of questions, and, knowing this, I'm going to have to come up for a reason as to why I did this, other than the fact that I'm trying to get on his good side and see if I really like him _that _way or not.

The heater begins to blow hot air full blast on my face, bringing me back to the world of reality. I lick my lips and feel the saliva instantly dry, the cracks on them even more noticeable now. My hand grabs the gear shift and I put my car into drive, wasting no more time in driving away down the road, as Kyle could be home any second, and I don't want to risk any animosity yet. We have our fair share already, and my new plan doesn't need any added to the mix. All of these things I soon count as a distraction, so I focus all of my attention to the road so that I can get home safely. It's not too far away, just a couple of blocks, but there's still the danger of slipping on a patch of ice, since this damn town is always full of it, and hitting someone head on. Though, most people are at work now, not on the streets, and happy hour isn't until five. And... everything be damned if I'm found out on the streets any later than five. The people in this town are all stupid idiots, and I'm not putting my life in their hands.

I pull my car slowly into the driveway, stopping it abruptly and making it bounce in aftershock as I yank my key out of the ignition, grab my school bag, and jump out of the car. I storm into my house and don't bother to check and see if my mother's home. If the whore's out, the whore's out. I don't really care, so long as she comes back home and makes me something for dinner. The door to my bedroom is already open, so I briskly walk inside there, as if I'm on some kind of mission, and set my bag on the ground before flopping down on bed with just my phone in my hand. I quickly glance up, though, and noticed that I forgot to shut my door. I get up, take care of that, and then return to my bed where I'm prepared to sit and wait.

Before my mind can have the chance to run over what exactly is going on between me and Kyle now, my phone buzzes obnoxiously in my hand, and I feel my heart do a strange flip that's a result of my mix of nervousness and eagerness. I have to admit, I'm curious to see how Kyle will react to what I did. Seriously, he could be mad, he could be confused, hell, he could be fucking grateful. I'm not sure which of those I would like to hear best – they would all be worth it in their own way. However, I ignore the voice in the back of my mind telling me that I would be most pleased with the last of the three as I pick up the phone and answer it.

"What do you want, Jew?" I spit, taking on an irritated approach. It's obvious, isn't it? I have to stay in character here, at least somewhat. Otherwise, Kyle's not going to take the bait. I know him, and I know that he knows that I don't act nice unless there's a reason. And I know that he knows that, and I know...

...Dude. Fuck that.

I press the phone hard against my ear, and I can feel the texture and practically crackling through the line as nothing but his breath gets through. He's obviously there, knows I'm waiting for his answer, and yet he still chooses to sit there like an idiot. At least he's smart enough to know how to breathe. I mean... _goddamn._

A good minute or so goes by, and I'm too impatient to wait for him any longer. I don't have time for his spacing out. I don't care if I've confused the fuck out of him, rattled his brain to a point of no return, made him... feel things for me or whatever – I don't care. I'm not doing any of this for him, for _us, _as his faggy way of thinking would be. I'm doing this for me, bitch. My irritation has developed to where I really feel it now, but I couldn't care less. I bark at him again, in a more authoritative voice that will hopefully have him answering me this time around.

"Hello? Jew?"

Nothing. At least, that's what I think. I'm about to hang up, but I hear a short, strangled sound from the other end before he speaks. Finally.

"Why did you do that?"

Here is where I start to play the innocent card. Taking a slight pause, almost a stab of revenge back at him for making _me _wait so long for _his _reply, I tilt my head in confusion and answer him in a similar tone. "Do what?"

A loud sigh sounds from the other end, and I expect him to explode on me or something. I mean, I'm not stupid. Just because I know the innocent card doesn't work on him doesn't mean that it isn't fun to play anyway.

"You lied to my mom about me having to go to the nurse. You told her I was sick, and that she should be concerned when you very well knew that I could have easily gotten in trouble if you just left it alone and left her to think I skipped on purpose. You saved my ass when I told you not to. Why?"

I take another few moments of silence after he finishes, but it's not because I'm trying to act like I don't' know what's going on. No. I'm searching for the best way to answer this. My options have to be weighed heavily, because the best choice matters. A lot. It's almost life and death here – if I don't go about this the right way, my chances with Kyle could be screwed. Not that it's... that big of a deal. I'm just curious. Obsessed, too, yes. But mostly curious.

When I'm ready, I answer him slowly, as honestly as I can, still in that commanding voice. "I told you I could get you out of trouble and I did. What's the big deal?" I quickly smirk, feeling more at ease and a bit more confident. Something about this conversation has me now feeling awfully playful and loose. "It's not like I listen to you anyway."

"Because," he grounds out slowly, bringing me to realize that it's his voice that's having such an effect on me, "Once again, this isn't like you. You love to see me suffer, and that's exactly what would have happened if you hadn't told my mom anything. You saved my skin, and I know very well that's something you would never do. Ever."

I frown, the urge to defend myself returning. I forget the strange ring in his voice and how nice it is, and answer him bitterly, "People change from time to time, Kahl." I make no change in the way I pronounce his voice. Nice or not, that's probably something I'll never change. "It's a fact of life."

"Oh, don't pull that crap on me!" he exclaims with a sharp bark, sending a rush up my spine. I don't know why... but that tone of voice coupled with the thought of how... enraged he sounds right now... it's really sexy. Sexy... not a term I would normally associate Kyle with.

Maybe I really am falling for him...

"The only reason you did this," he continues, "is because there's something in it for you. I want to know what it is."

Though his heavy, commanding voice could possibly have me cracking while I'm in such a vulnerable position, I hold strong and keep my secret from him. I sigh and answer his order with a question. "Look, isn't it possible, just possible, for you to believe that this one time I helped you because I was trying to be nice?"

"No."

I roll my eyes at his cocky, childish answer, even though I'm beginning to admire how... blunt and straightforward he can stay in a situation like this. And I know he's going to. It's like... like I know him better than anyone else because I've known him for so long. I've picked up on his tick and habits, analyzed and _lived _on them.

"Kahl, seriously," I say, leaning back against my pillows and tilting my head back. "You don't believe for one second that maybe I've matured? Considering I'm in high school now?"

"No, I don't," he responds fiercely. You're still the same person to me. You always will be."

Though I freeze at his comment and feel icy needles tingle up and down my arms, his comment a reminder of how I felt back in the hall earlier, I show just as much spunk as him in my reply. "Eh, how am I the same?"

"Oh, let's see, where do I begin? You still call me a Jew every five seconds, and you call my mom a bitch-"

"Ay! I only call her a bitch because it's true, you stupid Jew!"

"See? You just did it!" he yells. "And just because it's true doesn't mean you have to point it out like that!

"The truth hurts sometimes, Kahl!" I bite back, now seething at this point. It's now apparent to me that the fire of our rivalry that started so many years ago, almost at the beginning of our lives, hasn't bothered to die down a bit. I'm near convinced that things might not be able to change between us now. So then why should I even bother? Is it even for me anymore? Or is it for something... more?

_More..._

My thoughts are sliced through by his voice again, that high pitch flying through the line like a knife. "Some things are better left unsaid, asshole!"

His words ring in my ears, echoing in my mind over and over, almost like a cue, a clue for my retaliation. It takes me a second, but I pick the chance right up and go for it. A smirk crawls onto my face and hardens there as I strike back. "Oh, are they? Does that hold true for your little slip as well?"

My heart races in my chest, and his silence – one, two, three, four seconds of it! - fuels the sudden rush of adrenaline I'm feeling in my veins. It's completely silent on the other end of the line. Not a thing can be heard, not even his breathing. The anger in me flows out of me completely as I celebrate my obvious victory, something that's coming more and more frequently these days. Even I won't deny that I've had more losses against Kyle than wins. But now... it seems like my luck's beginning to change. Before I let myself wonder why or how this is, I growl through the line again, establishing my dominance and the upper hand I have on him now. As sick as this topic makes me, it's totally worth it right now.

"You can't hide it from me, _Kahl._" I draw out his name on my tongue, enjoying this as much as I could be. I ignore the odd flip in my stomach. "There's no running from this one."

He goes silent again, and I tense my hand around the phone, almost on the edge of my seat while I wait for his answer. All sorts of things are running through my mind, each and every one a guess, a blind stab as to what he'll say in response. I can only guess he's shaking in fear right now, and all of the blood is drained from his face. He has that sick feeling in his stomach, just like I do when I think about his slip-up in the hall and the possibilities of me liking him in return, but I bet it's even worse than mine because he's a worry wart and paranoid, and that's what makes him so... so...

_Loveable._

Yeah, that's... not it! Holy shit, where did that... S-seriously? W-what the fuck?

"W-what are you going to do, C-Cartman?"

Kyle's timid, fearful, and shaking voice brings me back once again – he's been doing that a lot lately – and I focus back on the task at hand. His question, or more specifically his fear, has me chuckling and shaking my head. It's a quick change from what I was just feeling and thinking about, but hey, I'm a guy who's quick to adapt. I'm just that good. Years of lying and cheating have made me good at this sort of thing. Instilling even more confusion in Kyle seems like a good, fun choice for me right now, and I'm going to do just that.

"Who said I was going to do anything?"

His answer is quicker this time, and injected with plenty of shock. His voice has me smiling in amusement and a little bit of... adoration?

"_What?"_

I roll my eyes once more, smile still plastered onto my face – I can't stop doing it...! - and answer him casually. "Like I said, Kyle, people change when they're in-"

I barely begin to form the 'l' in my mouth before I catch myself, snap my mouth shut, and feel my stomach drop what feels like ten feet below me. If it was a rock, it would have clunked against the ground, and maybe would have busted through the floor to land in the living room below. The blood in me runs through like ice cold water now, none of it left in my face as I begin to run my tongue through my dry mouth. Unlike Kyle, I rebound as quickly as I can, struggling to cover my, _my _slip-up as best as I can, even though Kyle's smart like me, and will most likely catch on.

Fuck.

"P-people," I stutter quietly, choosing to start again, "People change from time to time." A scowl quickly drops in my face, and the blood rushes back to my face as I feel the fire of anger and embarrassment rise up in me. "Think about that."

Quickly after that, I yank the phone away from my ear and slap it shut, ending the call for good. I throw it to the end of the bed like it's on fire, watching it bounce twice on the mattress before it settles in the plush fabric of my comforter. My eyes stay locked on it for a few seconds, seconds that feel like hours as I lose myself in my own little world. Then I shake it off and bring myself back to reality, and I swiftly turn on my side and squeeze my eyes shut. I consider pulling a pillow out from underneath my head and holding it over it, but my body is frozen in place. I try to get to sleep so that I can ignore the buzzing of the call I'm probably going to receive soon, but it's impossible with the sick feeling of my stomach and my heart hammering away in my chest. My phone continues to rest at the foot of the bed, my knees tucked up close to my stomach, as I'm now afraid to touch the poisonous thing, even to move it so that I can get my mind off of it. I almost feel like a stranger in my own bed now – I'm incredibly uncomfortable now.

And it's all _his _fault.

God... I'm in huge trouble now.

* * *

Another cliffhanger? What in the world is wrong with me? Of course, I'm not sure if you can consider this a 'cliffhanger' since you can just go over to DTM and find out what happens (in case you don't know or have forgotten). Still.

I don't have much to say here, except that I'm pretty happy to be back. It's weird, after taking such a long break, but it's pretty nice. Give me a few weeks, and I should be back in the swing of things.

That aside, I really hope you all enjoyed this chapter. I certainly wouldn't call it my best. I'm not even sure where I'm going with Cartman in this one. To me he seems all over the place. And don't get me started on Kyle's mom. I mean, I was just outright lazy with her. But I'll leave it up to you guys to really decide.

Also, big thank you to OSN for editing this. I'm a lazy bastard, and I figured an extra set of fresh eyes would catch my mistakes better.

And, as always, reviews are very much appreciated. I would love to hear your thoughts on what's going on so far!

That's it for me. Until next time,

-Soul


	8. Chapter 8

Finally. After nearly a _year _of no updates, this is finally coming back. I... I can't even believe I'm doing this, I just did it on a whim. Honestly, I feel awful for putting this story on such a long hold because I myself can't _stand _it when an author doesn't update something for months or ever. I'm just so jumpy and impatient. XD

Speaking of that, I'm pretty impatient in uploading this chapter. I've been working on it for days, a little at a time, and so I just kinda wanna... post it now and _be done with it._ If you don't get what I'm getting at there, well... you'll probably understand after you read this. lol

Again, this is a really random, out-of-the-blue update, but I hope you guys appreciate it. ;n;

Enjoy!

* * *

I don't register the fact that I actually managed to fall asleep until I hear the buzzing of my phone, which is still located at the foot of my bed. It doesn't take me two seconds to leap up and scramble around to grab it. My heart has now jumped up as well and lodged right in my throat. The pain of it is almost unbearable. The hammering pound of if mixed with the constricting feeling of my throat has me this close to doubling over and throwing up on my covers. However, I ignore the pain and look at my phone regardless of the situation, telling myself one thing. That is, I can't let myself be this fucking weak and let Kyle win. I know he'll prompt me for an answer – that's inevitable. But there's no excuse for me to let my guard down like I did before, for fear of another slip-up. If I play this the right way, I can still turn him around and make him think that this is all part of some joke of mine.

I feel calmer at my own coaching, so I take a deep breath and look at the caller id. I almost slap myself across the face when I see who it is.

Fucking Butters.

A sigh escapes my lips, and with it I exhale any I nervousness, anxieties, and fears had been feeling before this. Leave it to Butters to do that to me. Calm me freaking down. Before I let my paranoid mind figure out what this all might mean – not that I would believe it, anyway – I pull the phone open and press it up to my ear to answer.

"What?" I start gruffly, flopping back against my pillows and crossing my free arm over my chest. I honestly hope for a silence on the other end that will tell me that I answered too late, but to my dismay his usual chirpy voice answers me back.

"Heya, Eric! I was just wonderin' if you... 'f you were still going tuh Stan's party tomorrow night."

His question makes me pause for a second. I blink and furrow my eyebrows in my confusion, looking around my room curiously. "Wait, what time is it?" I ask, subconsciously, out loud.

"O-oh, I'm sorry," Butters apologizes. "D-did I wake you up by accident? I didn't mean to..."

"Yeah, you did," I say absently, my temporary anger forgotten in light of my delusion. "Uh..."

I pause for a second to think about his question, which I still haven't answered. The answer seems simple, either a yes or a no, but recent things have obviously made it more complicated than that. If I know Kyle as well as I give myself credit for, there's no doubt that he'll be at Stan's party. He's too much of a little pussy bitch to abandon his best friend. No, wait. Excuse me. _Super _Best Friend. I roll my eyes at this. But no, Kyle wouldn't ditch Stan for anything, not even he had his leg shot off and was hopping around like a retarded kangaroo. He would do anything for that pussy, faggish hippie. Though... that makes me wonder. If Kyle seems so loyal and attached to Stan... then why in the fuck does he seem attracted to me?

"Eric?"

I'm jolted out of my thoughts at the sound of Butters's voice again, and I can't help but give a quick answer. "Y-yeah. I'll probably be there. There's free booze, right? Always a good reason to go to a party." Here I take a slight pause, finding something else to question. "Wait, Butters. Why are you even calling me to ask me? You're not that obsessed, are you?"

He immediately stutters in response, and I let out a loud, hearty laugh. "N-no, no!" he yells, "I ju-jus... I just need a ride from someone! I figured you could take me if I asked..."

"You need a ride?" I ask incredulously. Then again, this isn't really a surprise to me. I'm sure there's a pretty good reason as to why. A reason that's easy to guess when it comes to Butters.

But I simply sit back and let him answer the question for me. "Yeah...," he says quietly, most likely in shame or embarrassment. "I got grounded again and my dad doesn't want me out of the house or drivin' and stuff..."

I smirk in my smug way and cross my legs. "Oh ho, so we're being the little rebel then, aren't we, Butters? You know, you're gonna get in a shitload of trouble if your dad finds out that you bailed _and _went to a party with alcohol. You sure you wanna do something like that?"

I can hear faint rustling on the other end of the line, the image of him fiddling with his shirt or some kind of object near him popping right into my mind. He takes a few seconds to respond, likely because he's contemplating the consequences given he does decide to rebel.

"U-uh, I-I..." He stops quickly, then mutters in a low, dejected voice, "Wuh I-I don't know..."

My teeth clench in immediate frustration, my hand gripping the phone to the point where it might break. "Dammit, Butters, what the hell? When are you gonna grow a pair, seriously? You're practically a fucking adult, you don't need to listen to your parents anymore!"

"B-But my dad says that if I go against him at all, h-he'll ground me! I won't be able to go out anywhere, Eric!"

"Butters, that's just an empty threat," I say with an irritated sigh. "Don't you know parents? They just say that shit to scare you, but they never do anything if you do something bad."

There's a short stretch of silence on the other end of the line before Butters answers in a monotone voice, "Eric, my dad beats me if I do somethin' wrong."

I furrow my eyebrows and, without missing a beat I answer, "Well, I guess you just got the sucky parents, Butters." I then shrug, no feeling one lick of sympathy for him because, well he's _Butters_, and I'm not surprised that his dad does beat him if he gets in trouble. Shit, if I was his dad, I would beat the crap out of him if he did something wrong. Maybe take out my belt, you know clear it through the loops of my pants, giving him that anticipated fear before I command him to bend over... and... and then give him his first whip. He would jerk his head back at the pain and cry out, beg for me to stop, but I wouldn't listen, I would just keep going, whipping the shit out of him as I ask him if he learned his lesson,

"Have you learned yet, you little shit? Well, have you!"

And he would cry, "Dad, wuh-please, please stop! It hurts! It hurts!"

But I would keep going, even as he started crying and wailing in pain, because the little bastard deserves it, because it would be so wonderful to punish the little bastard like that. Nothing would make me happier than tha-

"Eric, are you listening at all?"

I snap back to reality at the sound of Butters voice, suddenly realizing the tight feel of my pants. I don't have to look down to know that I definitely have the weirdest boner right now. All thanks to Butters.

Ugh.

Despite wanting to reach down and relieve myself of that problem, I remember that I'm still on the line and I still need to answer Butters's question. I suppose that this time I can be honest with him, since I really do have no clue what he was talking about during my little daydream fantasy, and I seriously doubt I could act like I do.

"Uh, sorry, Butters," I say in the calmest voice I can manage right now, "I got distracted. What did you say again?"

He doesn't sigh or make any kind of sound to show that he's frustrated with me, but the tone of his voice tells me enough. "I was askin' you if I could take me to the party. Please?"

"Oh," I manage to grunt, still too stunned and freaked out by my recent thoughts to give a decent answer. "Wait, you finally decided that you wanna bail?" Normally I would scoff at this, maybe congratulate him on finally growing a pair, but my brain isn't exactly working at full speed now. I decide to forgive myself for that, though.

"Yeah," he says in determination, "I'm... Wuh-I'm sick of my dad always... a-always giving me shit for things. You're right Eric, I _am _an adult, and I need tuh start makin' my own decisions."

Without thinking about it, a smile spreads across my face as I praise Butters for his bravery. "Aha, atta boy, Butters. See? Don't you feel important and grown up now that you've made that decision?"

"Uh...," he mutters back with hardly any confidence, "Well... not... not really. I feel more sick to my stomach and stuff..."

I shake my head and lean it back against my pillow, looking up at the ceiling of my room. "Oh, well, don't worry about that. It goes away fast. When you're at the party I'm sure you'll forget all about it." I suddenly smirk then, the image of a drunk Butters flashing in my mind. Oh, I can only imagine what that would be like...

"Well... okay," he says in return, "I trust that. Um..." He pauses for a little bit, more rustling on the other end, before he speaks back up. "My parents are actually goin' out tomorrow night to dinner, and I don't think they'll get back until late. They're gonna call me when they're comin' home. So, uh, can you pick me up at around seven thirty? T-they should be gone by then."

"Yeah, yeah, alright," I say dismissively. "I'll be there. But you better be ready by the time I get there, otherwise your ass is staying there. I don't have time to wait around on your ass, got it?" Not when I have to deal with Kyle... Shit, what am I gonna do about that...?

"Okay! I promise I'll be ready! I'll get ready extra early! Wuh, I'll do my hair and find my best clothes a-and-"

"Butters, this is Stan and Wendy's anniversary party, not fucking prom. Just wear what you normally do."

"But," he protests, likely fiddling with _something _again, "It's a special event! Stan and Wendy's anniversary is a big thing, considering all that they've been through! I hafta look nice!"

Without missing a single beat I slap a hand to my forehead and groan under my breath. "Butters, goddammit. Don't you understand these things at all? Wendy and Stan are just using that as an excuse to throw a party. They want a reason to get the parents out of the house so that they can have booze so that they can get drunk and possibly have sex upstairs in his parent's bedroom because they're just a bunch of horny teenagers who have no control over their urges at all."

There's a long silence on the other end. Finally, "Wa-wait. So it's not a special thing? I don't hafta... get them a present or nothin'?"

Oh my fucking... I... I don't have the patience to deal with him anymore. Switching the phone to my other ear, I exaggerate a sigh and answer, "Look, just make sure you're ready to go when I get there. Okay? See you tomorrow."

And without bothering to wait for him to answer back, I click my phone shut, throw it at the end of my bed again, and proceed to run my hands through my hair and tug at it as if it will relieve my now aching head. Now I remember exactly why I never call Butters if I don't have to. He's a pain to talk to even on the phone.

My thoughts quickly wander back to my bigger problem with Kyle, the only thing other than Butters that's sure to make my headache worse. I figure that since it's hurting already then, hey, I might as well try to deal with it now. I certainly don't want to have to be worrying about it tonight while I'm trying to get to sleep. Not that I would let something as stupid as this keep me awake. It's too insignificant for me to care about.

Again, as I decided before, there's no way he would miss out on something like this. No doubt he's going to be there at the party. Shit, he'll probably be there early, that stupid, prompt bastard. He thinks he's so much better than me. My eyebrows furrow and twitch at the mere thought. But if the sonofabitch is gonna be in love with me, then he at least should know that I'm better than he is. Which means...

I need to get to that party first.

I'm getting a little ahead of myself, though. What am I actually going to say to him? I have to make sure that he promises to keep what he heard from me between the two of us. No going to Stan to spill the beans. And actually, that's the perfect reason to get to the party before he does! Ah, I'm such a fucking genius, I can't stand it sometimes. I'll get Stan distracted with something or whatever, take my place somewhere where I can keep an eye on the door but not be under suspicion, and then when Kyle arrives...

I corner him like the Jew rat he is.

Perfect.

* * *

"Okay, Butters. Look. When we get there, you can hang with me, but as soon as Kyle get there you can't start following me around. Got it? I have important, _private _business with Kyle, so we can't be bothered. Understand?"

"O-okay. I gotcha, Eric," he replies as he plops down in the passenger's seat of my car. Thank god he's in a decently normal get-up. Button-up shirt and jeans, along with his usual aqua coat, and though I am against that atrocious thing, I don't see much point in bitching him out about it. Getting to Stan's place is a more important matter right now.

"Okay good," I nod quickly, putting my car in reverse so that I can turn it around. "You can maybe hang around with the others or something. And at least try drinking some beer, please tell me you're at least going to try."

"Eric, no!" he protests loudly, voice ringing over the blaring sound of the radio. He notices this and reaches for the knob to turn it down before he continues. "My dad'll kill me if he knows I had a drink! I can't do it!"

"Butters," I ground out, slapping my hand against the steering wheel, "I thought you didn't give a shit about what your dad thought anymore. I thought you were sick of his shit." I raise an eyebrow and look over at him in an attempt to pressure him. I admit, it's something I love doing. Influence is power, I say. "Don't tell me you're still a baby. You're still daddy's little munchkin, aren't you?" I scoff and looks back at the road as he face contorts into a look of anger. "Poor widdle Butters, he'll always be daddy's little ball sucker, he'll never learn to stand up for himself and not take his shit-"

"Eric, shut up!" He yells, with a bit more passion than I had expected. In fact, it gets me to look over at him, just in the slightest bit of disbelief, as I wait for more of a response.

"I... I...!" His glare at me lasts for only a few more seconds before he slumps back in his seat, twiddling his thumbs together in that annoying habit of his. "Uh gee, Eric... I'm sorry." I blink at this and glance over at him again, but quickly return my eyes to the road as I approach a stop sign.

"I should have seen it before," he mutters under his breath. "You're just tryin' to help me out and help me grow a pair. An' here I am getting' all angry at you." He picks at some nonexistent thing on his shirt. "I should really know better than that."

"Uh..." is all I can manage as I turn down Stan's street and pull up in front of his house. I stop the car and put it in park before I look over at Butters, confusion obvious in my expression. "Well... yeah. I am trying to help you out, I guess." It comes out as more of a question than a statement, so I try to cover that by yanking my keys out of the ignition and placing my hand on the door handle. "Well, we're here. Might as well go inside, right?"

Thankfully, Butters drops the subject completely and agrees with me as he jumps out of the car. "Yeah, let's go in! I wanna congratulate Stan!"

In fact, the little fucker doesn't even bother to wait for me as he runs up to the door and knocks lightly on it. I stare after him incredulously for a second, hoping my glare will burn a hole through his numb fucking skull, but something happens to catch my eye as Stan opens the door and lets him in.

A... blush... on his cheeks?

No. No, that's gotta be my eyes playing tricks on me. That or he just flushes when he's cold. Yeah, yeah, probabl- Wait, why the fuck do I care anyway? I slam my door shut, a little harder than necessary, but goddammit, what the fuck? That's not what I need to be worrying about right now! I need to worry about distracting Stan. How, I don't know, but I'm pretty damned good at improvising. I'll figure something out to get him stalled while I wait for Kyle.

"Yo, Stan," I call out with a grin as I walk up to his front door and clap hands with him in greeting. "How's it goin', man? Congrats on you and Wendy."

Stan lets out a short laugh as he ushers me inside. "Good, good. And thanks, dude." He closes the door behind him, then gives me a strange look. "You're here pretty early, though. And why is Butters with you?" He lets out a chuckle as he says this, provoking me to give him a sharp glare. I hold myself back from giving him a punch for that, though, considering the fact that I want to distract him for a little while. And I have to be on good terms with him if I want to do that.

"He needed a ride since he's grounded and his dad won't let him drive. And he wanted to be a little rebel bastard, so I said sure." My eyes narrow and my voice lowers to a dangerous tone. "That's the _only_ reason he came with me."

"Oh wow, Butters bailing out on his parents while he's grounded?" he asks in shock, giving Butters a glance from across the living room. "That's kinda new. I never would have imagined." He pauses for a second, looks back at me, and as soon as he narrows his eyes I know what's coming. "Let me guess," he starts in a suspicious tone, earning an eye roll from me, "You encouraged him to do this."

"So what if I did?" I say casually, "He needs to grow a pair, standing up to your parents shouldn't be that big of a problem. Seriously, I get around my mom all of the time. I just say what I want, and she lets me have it. Butters doesn't have that because he's too soft around his parents, he lets them push him around and shit. It's their own damned fault if he starts doing this shit, really."

Stan opens his mouth as if to say something, but he seems to decide against it as he pushes my shoulder towards the table of food and drinks. "Here, just... go and get a drink or something. Some of the guys are already here, as you can probably see."

I glance up at the people he's just pointed out. Craig, Clyde, and Tweek along with Butters, of course. And then a few other people from then football teams whose names I can't remember. A few girls as well. I shake my head and turn around to hold Stan back. "Wait a second, dude. There's something I wanna ask you."

He draws his hand away from my shoulder and tilts his head curiously. "What's that?"

"Well, I was wondering if I could borrow a few of your CDs. I was gonna make a mix for you, kinda as a present for your anniversary with Wendy."

"Oh," he shrugs, "Well, I don't really listen to that kind of music. It's kinda lame and sucky." He gives me another look, though it's not too suspicious. Yet. Thank god.

"O-oh, well, that doesn't really matter," I assured with a nervous chuckle. "I just need some of the things you like so I can mix it with some of the things she likes, throw it together into one CD and give it to you guys to listen to _together._"

I give him an honest and genuine smile, but the look on his face tells me that he's not buying the gesture. He blinks and furrows his eyebrows in what I see as confusion; what he says next only confirms it. "Dude, I don't understand, why didn't you come to me for this before so you could give it to us today? I mean... I don't get that. And would you really go to Wendy and ask her for her own stuff? I don't really think she would be too keen on lending you her music."

I let out a frustrated sigh as I look up at the clock on the wall. Ten minutes after eight. No doubt Kyle will be here soon.

"Look, does it really fucking matter?" I spit out, grabbing him by the shoulders and pushing him rather roughly towards the stairs. "Just get me some of your damned music. Surprise me, I really don't care. Just do it now, alright?"

He gives me an even more confused stare as he backs away towards the staircase. It's clear he doesn't have a clue as to what's going on, and that he's getting incredibly suspicious of what I might be up to, but he doesn't bother to question me about it.

"Fine, fine, dude, just chill out. I'll be down in a minute."

And with that he trots up the stairs and into his room, leaving me to heave a large sigh of relief. Perfect. Even if he doesn't take that long, it should spare enough time so that he doesn't have to greet Kyle at the door and start talking to him.

Feeling more confident about things, I go to stand at the table where Butters, Clyde, Craig, and Tweek are, picking up a cold beer along the way. I don't say that much to them as I pop the tab, given I'm too busy shifting my eyes back and forth between the clock on the wall and the door. My ears are tuned in to only the slightest knocks, body tense and rigid in preparation to rush towards the door as soon as I suspect someone's there. I feel almost as if I'm in some kind of horror film with the way I'm acting. Like I'm just waiting for some pussy ass murderer to barge in so that I can beat the living shit out of them. And as much as I would like to beat the living shit out of Kyle, I'll have to refrain from it tonight. Then again, maybe not, I _do _want him to keep what he heard from me a secret. Beating him up over it might be the option I'll have to resort to.

"Hey, Eric! Don'tcha want somethin' to eat with that?"

I'm immediately thrown off kilter as Butters's voice chirps up behind me. I spin around and give him a deserving glare. "No," I say with an exaggerated shake of my head, turning back around again to glance at the clock. Eight fifteen. "I'm really not hungry right now, Butters. Can you give me a second, I'm kinda busy right now." I take a long swig of my beer and glance back at Butters once more, hoping that he's minding his own business.

Not... really the case. Ever.

He immediately frowns and, of course, starts fiddling with his hands. "O-oh. Well, I just f-figured you might want somethin'." He then shifts back and forth, looking past me as if he's searching for something. "B-but wait, what are you busy with? You're kinda just standing there and starin' at the wall."

I struggle to hold back a punch, instead taking another drink to help calm my nerves as I turn back to face him. "Butters," I swallow, "Remember what I said about having to talk to Kyle? It's kind of important. As in I can't really be bothered right now." I turned back once more, waving my free hand at him. "Look, talk to the guys for a minute. I'll catch up with you later."

"But Eric, I-"

"Wait a minute. Cartman, turning down food? Really? That's really something new."

My ears focus their attention back behind me, though the monotone voice is the only clue I need to know who said that. Almost at my wit's end now, I slowly turn and give my darkest glare at Craig, who gives me a glare of his own in return. Honestly? There's really no one I hate more than this asshole. I even like Kyle more than this prick, seriously.

"Uh, excuse me?" I scoff, "I don't understand what you're getting at Craig."

Expression unchanging, he answers back, "You've been a complete fatass all of your life. You stole and entire fifth grader's lunch that one time. You eat like a glutton when you sit at our lunch table sometimes. And you still don't understand what I'm getting at. Wow, Cartman. Just. Wow."

I sneer at him and promptly roll my eyes. "Goddammit, Craig, what the fuck kind of stick is shoved up your ass? Shouldn't you be saying this shit to Clyde or something? He's the fucking lard ass." I make a shooing type of motion at him with my hand. "Leave me fuck alone right now, I'm really fuckin' busy here."

"Busy with what?" Clyde chimes in.

"It's none of your fuckin' business, goddamn! Why do you even give a shit?"

"Because you're always up to no good," Craig replies. "I wouldn't be surprised if you had plans to burn this whole house down just to kill us all."

Patience wearing even thinner, I huff and roll my eyes and turn around, once again, to address him upfront. "Craig, if I wanted to burn this fucking house down, I would have had to buy a can of gas and a flamethrower, plus plan the exact time at which everyone would congregate in the same area. That's too much fucking effort."

"That hasn't stopped you before."

Oh my fucking god.

"Rrgh, look you stupid piece of pig fuck!" I shake a finger at him. "You better mind your motherfucking business before I start some real shit with you! Understand?"

"Whatever. You just talk big, you don't really have anything to-"

_Knock knock._

My ears quickly tune the bastard out as I spin back around and watch the scene at the front door with wide eyes. The worst possible scenario is playing itself out right in front of my eyes. Not only has Kyle arrived to the party, but I managed to also miss Stan while I was dealing with the bastards standing behind me right now. It's almost like they all set this up just to fuck with me. It's like they don't _want _me to get Kyle alone so that I can talk to him.

But no, no, no. I'm taking this too far. There's no way they could know about what I said to Kyle. Unless... the Jew's already spilled the beans. Fuck, I wouldn't put it past such a sneaky fucking bastard.

My blood begins to boil as I set my drink down somewhere on the table, in a place I likely won't remember. Not that it really fucking matters right now. All I care about is getting to that damned Jew. He makes it easy, too, staring at me like a deer caught in the headlights as I walk briskly towards him. I stop rigidly and waste no time in letting him know what I want.

"Kitchen. Now."

A good, long moment passes by and he doesn't bother to move. Now, I'm torn between being proud of this and pissed at the same time. On one side, his unwillingness to move tells me he's too paralyzed in fear to budge. I should be proud to have intimidated him that much. On the other hand, though, he's not following my clear as crystal order, and that just pisses me off. He needs to respect my authority, dammit, not ignore it!

Fed up with waiting and fearful of the others around us getting suspicious about what might be going down with us (especially Stan), I quickly grab his arm and drag him into the kitchen. I let go of his arm as soon as I pass by the island while I lean on the counter next to the sink, barely noticing the far-gone look in his eyes.

"Look, Jew," I spit out venomously, "You do not, I repeat, _do not _tell anyone of what I said to you on the phone yesterday. Do you understand?" I point a harsh finger at him just to make my point clear.

What he says next... Well... It doesn't really surprise me, honestly.

"No, not really," he says smoothly, although there's still a distant tone to his voice, "Please explain it to me because I'm an idiot like you."

"_Don't _make this harder than it is, _Kahl," _I snarl, leaning forward slightly. I notice that he shudders at that, but I don't really think much of it. I'm more focused on wanting to murder him right now than noticing that he's actually respecting my authority.

Hey.

Wait.

He's respecting my goddamned authority!

Well, it's about fucking time he did! Stubborn little prick...

He only cowers in fear more and more as I advance slowly towards him. The distance between us isn't far, so it's only a second or so before I have his back arching against the sharp edge of the island, no doubt digging into his back and making him oh so uncomfortable.

Good. That's how I want him to feel right now.

"You tell _anyone _what I said... anyone at all... and I'll have your _head. _Do. You. Understand?"

Oh yeah. That'll teach the little rat to mess with me. He can't go against me when he knows that's a consequence. And with the way I said it, well... that's even more of a reason for him to be scared. Why, just look at him now, he's as scared as a little lamb being cornered by a hungry wolf. The shiver he gives in response only completes it all.

Though...

I _did _ask a question. I kind of expect him to answer it.

"Jew?" I wave a hand in front of his blank face. "Hello? Are you listening to me?"

...nothing.

"Jew! Listen to me!"

His face lights up a little, but still no answer. What the fuck?

"Kahl! Goddammit!"

A little better, but he's still ignoring me! What, is he deaf? Blind? Don't _tell _me he's turned into motherfucking Helen Keller!

"Kyle Broflovski! _Kyle-"_

Saying his name like that must have been the magic word because he finally fucking does something. Of course, he does something that completely catches me off guard.

He jumps on me and kisses the shit out of me.

Now I'm the one thrown back against the sharp edge of a counter, wincing in pain as it digs into my back. I flip completely, my first instinct being to claw and scratch at him, anything I can do to get the slimy bastard off of me. Because kissing him is the last fucking thing I wanna do, this is just plain disg-

_Wonderful._

Wha... wha?

I stop for a moment. Relax. I don't kiss back by any means, but for some reason I've decided to take it all in. Savor the moment and wonder...

Is this really all that bad?

Perhaps it's best that things turned out this way. I _was _planning to kiss Kyle after all, just to see what happened. How I felt... whether this was a manifestation of sexual tension or...

He pulls back, a little too suddenly for my liking seeing as how I couldn't exactly judge how I felt during that. I mean... it's not like I'm missing that or anything. I certainly think I want him to do it again, it wasn't really that spec-

"Shut. Up."

I snap out of my thoughts and look down at Kyle without a word. Really, what can I say? I just... I just got fucking kissed by a Jew rat that I doubt I have any attraction to-

_But you liked it._

N-no, that's a lie. I didn't like it. I didn't like it in the least! I was caught off guard, pushed back against the fucking counter, clawed at, and now the blood in my body is rushing around all fucking crazy and shit and if Kyle doesn't back up right the fuck now there's gonna be a serious problem.

He's just... that look he's giving me right now. It's so angry, but at the same time I... I can't help but love that.

Love?

_Love?_

Aw, shit.

Seriously, what... what in the hell am I thinking now?

Only when he jumps in shock do I realize that I've reached a hand out to grab his shoulder. I don't really understand what exactly I'm doing right now as my other hand slides down to rest on his hip, so I take a moment to get a good look at him. My eyes run down his body to his chest and back up until I'm looking directly in his eyes. I stare at them for a good, long moment, searching for some reason, any reason to explain why... why this feels so right to me.

It's sick, but I can't deny the fact that maybe... maybe Kyle isn't the slimy Jew rat I've always seen him as. Perhaps this is much more complicated of a matter than I passed it off as. I'm certainly not getting any answers right now. That first kiss solved nothing. Maybe doing it again is my only option for now.

"Okay," I say softly, not giving him a second to respond before I draw him into another kiss.

I make this one slow and gentle, unlike _his, _if only to make a point that I'm fucking better than him, but even that plan is lost as my hand guides itself up from Kyle's shoulder to run through his hair. I'm quite shocked actually. For having such a disgusting looking Jewfro, it's not as coarse as I was thinking it was. In fact, it's really not that bad. A little tangled in places, but still...

Actually... call me crazy, but... all of this is kinda enjoyable. Not only am I in control, but just... I feel kinda funny. Nice funny. Like fuzzy and warm and-

Kyle yanks himself away from me, but I hardly even notice it. My mind is still clouding with that wonderful feeling, whatever it is, and it's really to nice for me to fucking care that he just pushed me away.

"...ou reali... ...re we are..."

So nice...

"...rtman!"

The wonderful feeling is quickly broken as Kyle shakes the living shit out of me. "Wha...?" I say a little dazedly, reality slowly coming back to me. Then, I remember where we are exactly.

"Oh shit!" My hands grip and claw at the counter behind me as I struggle to regain my composure. I jerk my head back and forth, stomach dropping at the thought of someone having seen us just now. But the coast is clear, I soon discover, so I relax and look back at Kyle as seriously as I can.

"What... what the _fuck..._ was that?"

Kyle simply shakes his head, but doesn't break his gaze from mine as he answers me slowly. "I... don't know."

Well... I guess that's all I could have expected. But still, he's the supposed 'genius' here, isn't he? He should fucking know!

I growl under my breath and look around the room again to make sure no one else is around to watch as I curl a finger under his chin and lift it so that he'll look at me. My eyebrows lower as I study him even harder this time, determined to find some kind of answer to all of this shit. Really, it shouldn't be this fucking hard! Why can't I understand it?

But no matter how hard I glare at him, nothing happens. The only thing I see in him is a look of shock and fear, and that's certainly not solving anything. Maybe just... one more time, I think to myself. If I kissed him one more time...

Without hesitation I lean forward once more and kiss him again, closing my eyes and focusing solely on what I feel. Gay, I know, but that's the only way I can figure this out. Kyle struggles against me for a little bit, but I hold onto him as tightly as I can. There's no way he's getting away from this just yet. He still needs to be my guinea pig for a little bit more...

That same wonderful feeling washes over me again, I notice. Is that really it, though? That can't possibly be it, can it? All I'm doing is pressing my lips against his! That really can't be the fucking reason as to why I'm feeling so... so... elated. I mean, it _is _a nice feeling, and I wouldn't mind having more of that. Because, really, I deserve to feel that good, man, just...

It's too damned nice.

I still don't believe I have any kind of feelings for this stupid day walker, but perhaps using him to get that feeling is worth it.

I'll just have to see.

After a moment I pull back and look at Kyle, even smiling a little. He of course looks like he's on top of the world, too, probably because I'm such a great kisser. That's beside the point, though. I watch him curiously as he opens his mouth to say something. I figure I might as well listen. Maybe he'll actually admit something that I was right about all along.

The thought makes me smirk wider.

"I..."

Before he can say any more than that, something moving in my peripheral vision catches my eye. My highly paranoid state causes my reflexes to work double-time, and so as soon as I see that something move my eyes flit up to meet it.

What, or rather _who,_ I see behind Kyle causes my eyes to go wide and the feeling of elation sinks into the pit of my stomach like a stone.

"F-fellas?"

God. Fucking. Dammit.

* * *

Okay yeah, so... I mean, I really don't know what I'm doing here. I won't go through all of the struggles I went through in this chapter. Just mainly, like... near the end and all. I wasn't really sure how to make Cartman react exactly, and I feel like I may have rushed because I was so eager to get this up... Which is the worst thing that an author can do, DO NOT FOLLOW MY MODEL GUYS it's a bad model to follow ;_;

I dunno, though, maybe it's okay. I'm happy myself that I actually got around to writing this. And I hope you guys enjoyed it! Not sure when the next chapter will be out but uhhhh I'll try my best? I'm so sorry for making you all wait this long. D:

That's pretty much all I have for now. Again, I hope you all enjoyed reading this!

Until next time,

-Soul


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